


Norman Didn't Plan For This

by NoveltyToy



Series: A Series of Seriously Bad Decisions [5]
Category: The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Daddy Kink, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hallucinations, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Multiple, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoveltyToy/pseuds/NoveltyToy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peter Parker started taking photos of Spider-Man for the Daily Bugle, his best friends grew very concerned for his safety, especially Harry. Eventually, they resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn't be able to stop Pete from chasing after trouble, so Harry came up with a plan to follow him - to protect his not-so-secret crush. He offered Peter a peace offering in the form of a shiny, expensive new camera, but he neglected to mention that it came pre-installed with a GPS tracker. Unfortunately, when Harry attempted to use that tracker to locate his friend during a massive street battle, he instead found himself coming face-to-mask with the Green Goblin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summary and Trigger Warnings

**Author's Note:**

> My original plan for this series didn't involve Green Goblin/Harry Osborn until the "Fifty Shades of Green" arc, but Ryzal's enthusiasm for Daddy Kink was infectious so I started brainstorming ideas of how I could make that happen sooner in the story, so... in the timeline, this occurs during the tail end of Harry's Junior Year in High School, he's sixteen-going-on-seventeen.
> 
> Just as in _The Spectacular Spider-Man_ cartoon, Norman Osborn has been secretly taking on the persona of the Green Goblin since the big event that coincided with their Fall Formal. But since Harry never joined the football team or used Gobulin Green in my story, Peter never discovered Gobby's connection to Osborn (aside from being aware that he uses stolen OsCorp tech).
> 
> Also, for those new to this series, my version of Norman Osborn is mentally ill, not evil, and he's not a total sociopath either. He suffers from a sort of schitzoaffective disorder, with some very persistent and persuasive hallucinations heavily influencing his decision making.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This "Chapter" is here to be used as a Quick Reference for myself and any readers that may be sensitive to trigger related content or want to have access to more thorough chapter summaries. 
> 
>  
> 
> **If you don't like spoilers, _feel free to skip ahead to the first real chapter!_**

#### Chapter Breakdowns.

###### * Chapter 1:

### Summary of Events and Warnings.

This is the third part of a _Series of Seriously Bad Decisions._ Although, * _please_   _note:_  my writing process involves jumping around in the timeline and drafting many different scenes from multiple perspectives at the same time, so the various parts will not be completed in a sensical order. If you prefer to read things Start to Finish, you may have a long wait ahead of you before you'd be able to properly enjoy this work. However, I will continue to update sporadically, all over the place, often with unpolished chapters, because receiving absolutely any kind of feedback gives me that little happy boost that keeps me motivated to continue. 

Since this story is going to be long and a little bit complicated, I’ve decided to compile a guide here with summaries of all the chapters’ events to help everyone keep up with the story’s progression with minimal confusion. Hopefully this will also help those that want to skip over **triggering** content and still be able to understand any significant changes that have transpired.

 ***Trigger Related Note:**  I am fallible, so if you notice any triggering content that I’ve forgotten to warn about, then let me know so that I can add it to my list.

  **New Readers be warned!** Everything that follows after this point will be filled with **spoilers!**

###### * Chapter 2:

### Harry's Plan Quickly Hits The Fan

Characters: Harry and MJ. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Norman Osborn, Spider-Man, Tony Stark and the Green Goblin.

 **Trigger Warnings:** ****cuss words, unrequited love/infatuation/obsession, monitoring best- friend/romantic-love-interest's whereabouts, following/stalking them, mention of a near death experience by explosion, running into dangerous situations, just incredibly bad decisions.

While Harry was preparing to go after Peter, MJ tried to talk him out of it. But ultimately, she agrees to cover for him. Harry quickly realizes that he's in way over his head.

 

###### * Chapter 3:

### Harry Takes a Shot in the Dark

Characters: Harry Osborn, Luke Cage (Power Man), Danny Rand (Iron Fist), Spider-Man, and the Green Goblin. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker.

 **Trigger Warnings:** ****forunrequited love/infatuation/obsession, monitoring best- friend/romantic-love-interest's whereabouts, following/stalking them, violence, mention of a near death experience by explosion, gunfire, running into dangerous situations, more bad decisions and a rape threat that might've just been an excuse for a really awful pun. ****

Harry searches for Peter, gets a good view of Power Man and Iron Fist in action, although he does not recognize either of them so they go unnamed. After Harry gets his wits back after the initial shock of the situation is overridden by his desire to save Peter, Harry finds his way onto a roof. He notices some strange webbing covering what appears to be Peter's bag and he starts to get suspicious - thinking that Webslinger may have hurt his friend or stolen his stuff. Before he can inspect it very closely, the Green Goblin just so happens to crash land on top of that same building. Spider-Man swung back down to street level to deal with some particularly destructive goons (presumably not having noticed Harry on the roof). Rather than running away, Harry makes the monumentally stupid and dangerous decision of pulling out one of Daddy's guns and trying to threaten the Goblin into submission. This doesn't go over well, as the Green Goblin effortlessly escapes his restraints and talks down to Harry, laughing at him and then threatening in kind. Harry takes aim and discharges his weapon.

 

###### * Chapter 4: 

### Norman's Plans Are Interrupted 

Characters: Norman/Green Goblin, the Goblin (Auditory Hallucination/Alter Ego), Spider-Man/Peter Parker, Gobby's Goons, Harry. Additionally, mentions of Ted Twaki.

Also, name drop TriCorp (Research Foundation, Private Brain Trust, Weapons Manufacturer and rival to OsCorp) and the Silver Spoon (local restaurant and one of the Squad's favorite places to meet up in Midtown). 

 **Trigger Warnings:** ****violence, guns, explosions, manipulation, bad intentions, worse actions, mental illness, auditory hallucination, threatening to rape a minor.

Norman's perspective of the events leading up to and during the battle. Up to the part where Harry shoots him. 

 

###### * Chapter 5:

### Spider-Man's POV

Characters: Peter Parker, Harry, Gwen, Mary Jane, Liz Allan, Flash Thompson, Goon 1, Goon 2, additional Gob Squad Reinforcements, the Green Goblin. Additionally, mentions of TriCorp. 

 **Trigger Warnings:** for teenage relationship problems, ditching friends for vigilante acts, violence, explosions, guns, bad puns, really bad puns, and bad decisions. 

Spider-Man's POV leading up to and including the battle. He's distracted dealing with the fallout from the explosives, trying to protect civilians and help the police stop the Gob Squad.

He notices several other heroes have arrived on the scene to help the firemen put out the blazes and rescue people from the burning buildings. There's a black man using himself as a human shield that seems to be working with a green-clad ninja with glowing fists that seems to be pulling apart the wreckage with superhuman strength.

 

###### * Chapter 6:

### Norman Abandons His Plans

Characters: Norman/Green Goblin, the Goblin (Auditory Hallucination/Alter Ego), Harry (Fake ID identifies him as Robin Goodfellow), Spider-Man, Random Unnamed Lady.

 **Trigger** **Warnings:** for gun violence, manhandling, death/rape threats, explosions, mental illness, auditory hallucinations, bad decisions, acting like a total creeper, breaking and entering, use of a taser. 

Things get violent and a little creepy. After Harry shot the Green Goblin (the bullet only grazed Norman's arm), Gobby grabs Harry from behind. The gun is held threateningly under Harold's chin as Daddy contemplates what he should do with the boy. Norman busts into the stairwell in an effort to stay hidden from Spider-Man.

As Harry makes excuses for how he "accidentally" shot the villain and totally didn't mean to,  he asks to be let go with a warning, and the Goblin (Auditory Hallucination) warns Norman that he can't let Harry go without some sort of harsh punishment because otherwise it will look suspicious for the villain to have gone easy on this random punk. Frustrated with hearing both voices talking over each other, Norman impulsively throws Harry against the wall and then pistol whips the boy's forehead. 

Harry falls to the ground, dazed, confused and in pain, but still conscious. As Norman panics and argues with the Goblin over what he just did, Spider-Man starts calling for Gobby to come out. As Peter was about to stumble onto Gobby's hiding spot, Norman detonates more explosives to distract the hero.

Norman throws Harry over his shoulder and hurries downstairs, where he breaks into the first apartment he sees. Then he throws Harry onto the couch, argues with the Goblin as he looks the boy's injury over and eventually settles on a new plan. He asks Harry's name. Unfortunately, Harry is either unable or unwilling to tell him, so Norman searches the boy's pockets for his wallet. He discovers that his son is carrying a fake ID. 

The father/son interaction is interrupted by the sound of a cell phone, and Goblin briefly leaves Harold's side to go deal with the apartment's tennant by tasing her and leaving her in the bathtub. 

###### * Chapter 7:

### Harry Regrets Everything

Characters: Harry, the Green Goblin, Spider-Man, Random Unnamed Lady. Additionally, mentions of Peter and Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings:**  for gun violence, manhandling, death/rape threats, explosions, breaking and entering, really bad decisions, mentions of previous kidnapping and character death, some suicidal thoughts, Goblin acting like a total creeper, awkward attempt at seduction. 

The events of the previous chapter as viewed from Harry's perspective. While Norman deals with the apartment's tennant, Harry tries to hide under the bed. As far as Harry knows, the Green Goblin's threats to rape and kill him might be sincere, and Harry decides that his only course of action is to endear himself to the villain in whatever way he can. He thinks that if he can get on the bad guy's good side and convince him that it'll actually be more fun to let him live, then he might survive this encounter afterall. Or at least maybe the rape will hurt less if he pretends to be into it.

###### * Chapter 8:

### Norman Can't Think Straight

Characters: Norman/Green Goblin, Harry.

 **Trigger Warnings:**  awkward/gross flirting, rape threats, auditory hallucination, groping.

Harry's awful seduction attempt stirs up strange feelings. The Goblin encourages Norman to act on those feelings. 

Norman instructs some minions to retrieve the glider from the roof and to send a car for him. Using an improvised cloak (a bedsheet thrown over his costume) for cover, Norman carries Harry out of the apartment building, down the street, into a parking garage to find their get-away vehicle, and they both ride away from the scene in a stretch limo with tinted windows. The driver drops them both off in a warehouse. Norman then takes Harry through a secret entrance to an underground lair.

###### * Chapter ??:

### Welcome to The Goblin Cave

Characters: 

 **Trigger Warnings:** Dubious consent involving a seventeen year old boy. Hallucinations convince Norman to do bad - _rapey_ - things. Mocking, insults, and creepy ass behavior all leading up to sexual assault.

###### * Chapter ??:

###### * Chapter ??:

### Squad POV

Status: Incomplete

Characters: Mary Jane, Gwen, Peter, Liz Allan, Flash Thompson, Harry. 

 ** Trigger Warnings:  **

Mary Jane wakes up the next morning. She's freaking out because she hasn't heard back from Harry yet, and when she tries to call his burner phone it goes straight to voicemail. She's trying to stay calm, play it cool, and casually ask Gwen and Peter if they've heard from him at all. Neither has, and Gwen quickly realizes that something is up. MJ fesses up and tells them that Harry chased after Peter last night, and Peter is particularly torn up with worry over this.

 

###### * Chapter ??:

### The Break-Up

Characters: Peter Parker, Gwen, Mary Jane, Liz Allan, Flash Thompson. Additionally, mentions of Harry. 

**Trigger Warnings:**


	2. Harry's Plan Quickly Hits The Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Harry was preparing to go after Peter, MJ tried to talk him out of it. But ultimately, she agrees to cover for him. Harry quickly realizes that he's in way over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Status: Unpolished but Complete Draft
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** for cuss words, unrequited love/infatuation/obsession, monitoring best- friend/romantic-love-interest's whereabouts, following/stalking them, mention of a near death experience by explosion, running into dangerous situations, just incredibly bad decisions.
> 
> Characters: Harry and MJ. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Norman Osborn, Spider-Man, Tony Stark and the Green Goblin. 
> 
> Last Updated: 6/3/17

#### Harry's Plan is About to Hit the Fan

This had not been one of Harold's better ideas. Honestly, he would be hard pressed to think of anything he'd ever done to rival this strictly in terms of being stupid and reckless. But _dammit,_ he was worried about his friend! It was just lucky that Peter was trusting of his bestie and hadn't thought to thoroughly check his new camera for a tracking device.

 _"Are you sure about this?"_ Mary Jane had asked at least three times before he'd set out on this mission.  _"Really, really sure about this?"_

"What else am I supposed to do? Just sit on my hands while I lay awake at night and pray that the boy I love is still going to be alive when I get up in the morning?"

"That seems _a tad_ over-dramatic, Hare, _even for you."_

"You and I both _know_ that Pete has been lying about how close he's been getting to the action." They had talked about this before, the odd limp or tell tale sign of a bruise when their nerdy pal would flinch away from casual physical contact with a hiss of pain. _How long could they both keep pretending that everything was okay?_

"And what about Sally's story? The whole ride along disaster?" That was truly the tipping point for Harry. The straw that broke the camel's back. "If Pete hadn't happened to walk away for a bathroom break, he would've gone up in flames! He could've been destroyed along with his camera. **Pete could've _died._ ** And why _the fuck_ did we only find out about that when Sally Avril couldn't resist making a big fuss of how traumatized _she'd_ been as a witness?" 

Mary Jane opened her mouth to interject but choked on an unintelligible sound of frustration.  _"I -_ Ugh! _Dammit,_ Harold," she barely stopped short of selfishly exclaiming that she didn't want to risk _Harry_ going up in flames. This whole situation was making her heart heavy enough without adding more guilt for valuing the life of her favorite playboy over their pet tiger.

 _"It -_ It's just **not fair** for us to keep assuming that Peter needs our help, _that he can't look after himself._ Especially since he's gone such a long way to prove that assumption wrong! You can't keep playing the role of Pete's Protector forever, you know. I think he's already starting to resent it. Hasn't this whole Bugle debacle already put a large enough strain on your friendship? Can't you just back off _a little?_ You know he needs this job to help his aunt _."_ Mary Jane had crossed her arms in an effort to keep from fidgeting, but she still twitched with anxiety. Internally, she had definitely been cursing 'Secretive Pete' for putting her in this position of having to defend him. 

"No, he needs _a job,_ but **not** _this job._  Do you know how many times I've subtly tried to tell him that my dad could set him up at OsCorp? _With work that's actually geared towards his sciency passions?"_  He'd had to gesture wildly to emphasize this point. "And _you know_ when I reference _Peter_ and _subtlety_ **in the same sentence,** I mean that I dropped hints bigger, louder and more _garishly_ colorful than if Tony _Stupid_ Stark and the _Green Goddamn Goblin_ had a _fucking_ love child." 

They both had to repress shudders at that mental image.

Mary Jane wished Gwen Stacy were here to talk some sense into Harry, because MJ was feeling horribly under qualified to reign in Osborn's intensely stubborn and irrational obsession with Peter Parker. How Petey managed to stay oblivious was _beyond her comprehension,_ because this infatuation was always so _painfully_ obvious from wherever she was standing. 

"He's gotta have more reasons for doing this than money alone." Harry's mind skirted over every strange look of fear, panic, and cold resignation that crossed Peter's face whenever he had to jumble together a half-assed excuse for why he needed to suddenly run off. "Something he really doesn't want to tell us and just the fact that he's keeping secrets _from us_ is huge cause for concern."

 _"So_ maybe he gets a thrill out of it?"  She'd answered. "Or he could just be acting out of some awful desire to get close to one of his heroes. You know he's a _huge fanboy_ for all that costumed hero crap."

"Whatever it is, _why he thinks he needs to do this,_ **I need to know.** Preferably _before_ he gets himself killed. MJ, I _have_ to do this. I have to follow him."

_"Yeah,_ but _-"_  With a defeated sigh, Mary Jane had to make one last ditch effort.  _"- I don't know,_ I mean, Pete's been at this for _a while now,_ and he says Spidey has his back.  _So maybe -_ just _maybe_ - we shouldn't be interfering." 

But her reassurances had done nothing to comfort him. If anything, he was only more agitated by mention of the local hero. _Okay,_ so maybe it was a tad selfish of him, but  _Harry_ wanted to be the man to watch Parker's ass. _'Err,_ to touch his butt.  _No,_ ugh.  _I just want to be Petey's hero. I want to be the one that makes him feel safe and protected.'_ >/span>

"Yeah, _well,_ with the way the street violence seems to be getting amped up with all these super-criminals and the escalating gang war, I think the Spider Menace has his hands full. _And I'm sorry,_ but of all the animal-themed costumes to choose from - um,  _ **ew.**_ Creepy crawlies aren't the most confidence inspiring, _ya know?"_

"Creepy or not, you _have_ to admit that the Spider Powers have proved themselves to be pretty darn formidable. And you showing up all _gung-ho_ Dirty Harry _might_ just throw him off his game and cause more harm than help. These aren't playground bullies you'd be going up against, and if you do decide to start waving Daddy's gun around, there's a chance Spider-Man could mistake you for another villain. Is attempting to save your prince charming really worth all this risk, Harry?"

_"I just_ \- this isn't just an excuse for me to play at being a hero and sweep Pete off his feet. It's about _a lot more than that._ I need to do this **for me.** If we're both completely honest, _yeah,_ I don't really stand a chance against the kind of creeps that Spidey tangles with, but -"  Harry was really bothered by all this, and it was very clear from the look on his face. The thought of Peter crushing all over the masked vigilante was especially distressing. "I really need to see for myself what Peter has gotten himself into. I need to know what this is _really about._ Because - _because_ I really care about him _and -_ and if this freelance photography thing is just cover for him to rush into danger for the hell of it, because that's just _who he is_ now, or if he's really chasing after someone I could never even _hope_ to compete with - _I just -_ **I have to know.** Sooner than later." 

MJ had grudgingly understood Harry's desire to protect their friend, even if there wasn't a whole hell of a lot he could do. He just couldn't stand the feeling of helplessness or the worry that ate away at his gut whenever he thought about Peter out in the streets, chasing the scum of the Earth, armed only with his camera and the can of pepper spray that Harry had forced on him. 

_"Promise me_ you'll be careful, and you won't hesitate to call for help if you need it."

_"I promise."_

_"And you had better call me as soon as you're both safely out of harm's way."_

_"I will."_

"I mean it, Harry. If I don't hear from you in the morning, I'll be forced to call your father."

"Please don't. At least give me til noon before you call the cavalry. I'll be careful, really, I will, but no promises that I won't want to sleep in a little." 

They had both shared a fierce hug, a kiss for good luck, and then Harry shrugged his bag over his shoulder ready to set out and find his friend. 

Which is how Harold found himself here now, staring dumbstruck at the mayhem and wondering what the fuck he'd been planning to do beyond the vague goal of protecting his idiot of a best friend, classmate and secret crush. _Fuck._ He was so fucked. How was he even supposed to find Peter in all this chaos?

There were cascading explosions, falling debris, pumpkin headed gang members toting weapons, the police were outnumbered, civilians were scrambling to find shelter and get to safety. The wail of sirens and firetrucks was loud but a distant sound compared to the screams for aid and crying.  And just what was Harry doing but standing there slack jawed and stupid?

 _'Come on, Osborn, get it together.'_  He was more than a tad overwhelmed. So much was happening and here he was feeling rooted to this one spot.  _'You need to keep moving. Find Peter. Do something.'_


	3. Harry Takes a Shot in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry searches for Peter, finds his way onto a roof, and the Green Goblin just so happens to crash land on top of that same building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Status: Unpolished but Complete Draft
> 
> **Trigger Warnings** for unrequited love/infatuation/obsession, monitoring best- friend/romantic-love-interest's whereabouts, following/stalking them, violence, mention of a near death experience by explosion, gunfire, running into dangerous situations, more bad decisions and a rape threat that might've just been an excuse for a really awful pun. 
> 
> Characters: Harry Osborn, Luke Cage (Power Man), Danny Rand (Iron Fist), Spider-Man, and the Green Goblin. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker.
> 
> Last Updated: 6/3/17

#### Harry Takes a Shot in the Dark

Harold stood shell-shocked for a lot longer than he would have ever liked to admit before frantic shouting drew his attention to where a grenade had been launched under a police car. The resulting explosion reduced the vehicle to hot, twisted metal and from where Harry stood he could see at least two officers were down, bleeding on the pavement. _Gobby's goons were not messing around._

A big black, muscle hunk in a tight yellow t-shirt was leaping into action and running towards the fallen. Miraculously, he seemed unperturbed by the persistent gunfire aimed in his direction.  _"Oh my god,"_ Harry ducked his head and threw his hands over his mouth. It had looked imminent that this guy was charging into certain death, but yellow t-shirt guy remained unaffected by the bullets while he scooped one of the officers into his arms and used himself as a human shield while he carried her to safety. 

"Don't be alarmed," someone said from behind him, and Harry spun around so fast that he almost fell over. "Woah, easy there. Just take a breath, kid."

Harry hadn't even realized he'd been holding it until he inhaled sharply, short and fast. Harry's green eyes had gone wide and unfocused.  _'What the fuck? What the fuck?'_ This was so much worse than anything he'd imagined happening tonight.  _'Why did I have to go and pick the absolute worse night for this? I should be home. In bed. Not here. I should not be here.'_

"Slow down, but keep breathing," the man's voice was gentle and calm and completely out of place in this mess. "That's good, you're doing great. Now, walk with me." Under normal circumstances, Harry would've been suspicious of any overly friendly strangers approaching him or directing him where to go, but no one was expecting Harold Osborn to be here. In his dark hoodie and faded jeans, Harry was definitely inconspicuous enough to avoid any completely random person recognizing him. So this was probably not an abduction, but Harry was too distracted by the  _apparently bulletproof_ dude and the violence behind them. 

"Do you know where you are?" The blonde stranger was leading him away from the chaos. Harry opened his mouth to answer and choked on his panic. "You don't have to say anything, just nod your head, yes or no."

Harold nodded in the affirmative. 

"Okay," more explosions could be heard from whence they came and Blondie visibly winced. "Listen, kid, I need to go back and help my friend," the stranger had led him a decent ways away from the violence by now. "You think you can snap out of this daze long enough to finish finding your way to safety?" 

_'I need to... oh, fuck, I still need to find Peter.'_

"Yeah, thanks, _I_ \- I'll be fine."  The strange man gave him a quick pat on the head and didn't hesitate any longer before running back towards the madness.  _'Was he - was he wearing a green leotard?'_ Harold's brain briefly stuttered before remembering his purpose here. 

"Peter, I need to find Peter." He found a place far outa the line of sight from the battle royale while he tried to calm down enough to think clearly beyond, _'Oh, shit, fuck, what have I gotten myself into?'_

_'I've already come this far. **I'm not leaving without Peter.'**_

_"Now,_ if I were a puny photographer angling for the best shot of the action, _where would I hide?"_

It was easy to deduce that Pete preferred to be up high, most of his pictures had impossible angles to reach as if he was clinging to the side of a building, having climbed a light post or was hanging off a high ledge of some sort. _'Supposing that Peter had known this was where the showdown would take place, that Spider-Man had tipped him off beforehand, where would Petey expect to get the best shots?’_

With his phone out, he glanced over the tracking app again to check that he was headed in the right direction while he ducked into an alley behind an apartment complex. The fire escape was down, and it seemed like a decent guess to say that maybe Peter had been the one to use it. Or maybe not. Even if Pete wasn’t up there, maybe he’d get a better perspective and a good idea of where to look next.

So he found his way to the roof of the building and was confused because he was so sure that the tracking device said Petey should be here, but he didn’t see anyone! Just a bunch of gross spider webbing and garbage. He tried to get a good view of the battle below and up high. The Green Goblin and Spidey were both trading blows whilst airborne.

The villain was perched on the stolen OsCorp Tech Flight Glider, while Spider-Man was swinging through the air attached to his webs. _Webs,_ Harry curiously decided to investigate the strange webbing he’d spotted on the corner of the roof.

Upon closer inspection, he recognized his friend’s bag underneath the sticky mess. Had Spidey finally gotten sick of how the _Bugle_ was captioning Petey’s photographs and decided to steal Peter’s camera? But before he could cut it free and investigate the contents, he heard a loud crash behind him, on the other side of the roof. A moment later, there was a blur in the corner of his eye as he spotted Spidey swinging down to web up the pumpkin headed freaks terrorizing cops and civilians on the street.

Did that mean he'd finished with the Goblin? He cursed himself for taking his eyes off the action and reached into his own bag to pull out one of his father’s guns. He switched the safety off and turned around to inspect the source of the earlier noise.

What he found almost caused him to drop the weapon before he managed to steel his resolve and not only keep it raised but to take aim at the person he saw laid flat out and struggling against web restraints. _Did -_ did Spidey really web up his most notorious super villain and just _leave him unattended_ on a random roof?

_“ **Don't move!** ”_ Harry shouted, for fear that those restraints wouldn’t keep the Green Goblin  _restrained_ for much longer. “Stop struggling or - _or I'll -_ I’ll shoot you.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt just then, but to his own ears he may as well have been stammering and pissing himself. _Oh no,_ he actually had stammered, didn't he?  _'Goddammit.'_  So - _intimidating,_ Harry was not, but he wasn't the type to run from a fight even if he was horribly outmatched. The Green Goblin was just another bully, albeit much more dangerous than any he'd tangled with before, but - _but nothing,_ gun or no, Harry didn't stand a chance of winning if this came to blows.

Creepy golden eyes gazed up at him through that ugly green mask. _“No_ , no, **you won’t** ,” Gobby said and he’d sounded so completely unconcerned that it was insulting. _“Haha, hah,_ hm, _hehe,_ hah,”  the Goblin was giggling hysterically while his movements became much more relaxed and _focused._ The webbing was cut free and the exuberant asshole was mock-wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. “You won’t shoot me, _can’t fool me. Ah-_ hah, _ha,_  no, _no, **no.**_ ”

_'Okay, definitely this guy has a few loose screws rattling around in there. He's unbalanced, unhinged, off the fucking rails. I need an escape plan, like thirty seconds ago.'_

“ **Stop!** _Stay down!”_ Harry was beginning to panic as the villain moved to stand up. He should've made a run for the fire escape the second he saw him, he shouldn't have just stood here like an idiot and thought he could threaten this lunatic into submission.

His words were met with a dramatic sigh, “You’re not going to shoot me, kid. Put the gun down and run along, _shoo!”_ The Green Goblin had gotten to his feet by this point and was picking off the remainders of the sticky webbing clinging to his suit. Harry felt tempted to take a step back but he didn't want to risk losing his balance and being caught off guard. He held his ground and focused all his energy into maintaining his ready position with his finger on the trigger.

As much as he wanted to bail, to make a run for it, he realized that every second the Green Goblin spent glaring at him meant more time for the emergency responders to get things under control on the street. He didn't know why the villain was taking his sweet time in recovering, but he could take advantage of the fact that Gobby seemed distracted right now. Harry just needed to buy enough time for Spider-Man to get his stupid spandex clad ass back up here and finish this creep off.

_“No._ This is your last warning. **_Stop!_ ** I mean it, _I -_ I’ll shoot if you step any closer.”

“Ha -” The Goblin abruptly cut himself off, and for a terrifying moment Harry thought he’d actually been about to say his name, but then the crazed man started laughing again, “ **hah** , _hahaha, fuck,_ you _**stupid idiot**. _ Do you have any idea what happens to _pretty boys_ that stay out past their curfew and threaten **dangerous men** with _weak_ little pistols? _Oh,_ there will be a _bang_ alright, but it won’t have _anything_ to do with your gun.”

“Yeah? Try it, _freak,_ and I’ll put a hole in your chest.” Harry growled. In the next moment, everything _slowed down,_ the Goblin took a step towards him, Harry’s eyes widened, his arms stiffened, and he flinched as he pulled the trigger. The loud noise was so startling that he wanted to drop the weapon and cover his ringing ears, but he held fast and stood his ground.

There was a flash of red staining Gobby’s arm, but Harold didn't have time to take in either the feeling of satisfaction or immense sickness at knowing that he'd successfully hit his target - although, evidently _not_ where he’d been aiming.

The next several seconds sped up as if to compensate or maybe the Goblin was just _that fast_ because he was behind Harry before the boy was even able to register the blur of movement. The barrel of his own gun was tilted and pointed up under Harold’s chin, his finger twisted off the trigger and replaced by Gobby’s although Harry still felt the grip cradled in his palm, his hand trapped against the weapon beneath the villain’s hold.

_“Tsk, tsk, tsk,”_ a cool little breeze tickled the back of his neck. His arms were pinned to his sides, back pressed against the Goblin’s chest, his feet lifted off the ground. He didn't even realize that he was being carried across the roof until he heard the bang of a door being busted open.

Once they were inside the stairwell, the villain took a moment to contemplate where he wanted to go from there. When Harry tried to twist, searching for some sort of leverage, Gobby tapped the barrel against his chin, _“Ah-ah-ah, I did promise you a bang, did I not?”_

“You said it wouldn't have anything to do with my gun,” Harry’s voice was weirdly cool. Definitely sounded a lot less frightened than he felt. So far he was handling this much better than he'd ever have thought himself capable under these circumstances. But then his breath hitched because he swore he could _feel_ the creep smiling behind him, even through the mask, but it was probably just that _happy-ass_ tone of voice that left him with that disturbing impression.

“Well, _one way or another,_ either/or… _perhaps both kinds._ But I’m under some strict time constraints. Won’t be long before the hero comes back looking for **you-know-who**. _Hm."_ He obnoxiously clicked his tongue while he pondered this. _"What to do, what to do_ _with you?_ Hm..." 

"You could try letting me go with a stern warning. Promise I won't do it again. I didn't even mean to hurt you, I just got scared. Sweaty palms. My finger slipped. Honest mistake, really."


	4. Norman's Plans Are Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Norman Osborn, Green Goblin, Spider-Man, Peter Parker, Harry Osborn. Additionally, mentions JJ Jameson, The Bugle, Ted Twaki, TriCorp, and Shocker.
> 
> Last Edited this chapter on Oct 11th.  
> I think I'm mostly happy with it now, even if I feel like some of the details are too vague and I'm not quite satisfied with the pacing of the internal monologue relative to the actions. Conveying the actual short length of time that elapses during that interaction while still providing enough context for all the fast conflicted feelings is so difficult! Ugh! And also I want to elaborate more on the fight scene and the trap but I suck at this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be the first chapter, but then I decided to write Harry's conversation with MJ before he set out to find Petey. So I quick reorganized them. Okay? Cool.

#### Norman's Plans Are Interrupted

The Green Goblin had outfitted a small army of thugs with guns and explosives. A gaggle of rookies, stupid flunkies that he'd picked up off the streets and a handful of ex-military thrown in for just a dash of competence. He’d meticulously planned this big showdown with Spider-Man to keep the arachnid, cops, and any other heroes distracted while he sent a second team on a covert mission several blocks over.

There they would be infiltrating government offices to find, corrupt, and destroy any evidence that could potentially trace back to Norman Osborn, OsCorp, or any of his more valuable associates. They also had orders to steal any files they found on all the latest vigilantees to crawl out of the woodwork as well as to gather any intel they could on L. Thompson Lincoln's operations since he'd been put under surveillance. It was a tall order, but these were professionals. 

The place he'd chosen specifically for several reasons. First and foremost, relative proximity to his other mission. Conveniently distant from his most valuable places of business, to keep from disrupting his legitimate ventures too terribly - the Goblin had _already_ done so much to jeopardize them lately and he did not want _yet another_ headache to deal with when this was all over. There were, unfortunately, quite a few potential casualties in the area. _'But it adds to the chaos. Keeps the arachnid distracted, too busy saving civilians to stay focused on me, provides ample opportunities to sneak away if a retreat becomes necessary.’_

And if there was one thing that Norman found essential to every criminal plot, it was _an escape plan._ He had _too much to lose_ if his true identity was ever exposed. He’d lived long enough to understand the concept of acceptable losses and half his fortune could be attributed to his ability to prosper in spite of tragedy. He was heavily invested in just the sort of businesses that would stand to profit when time came to rebuild, to bandage the wounded, bury the dead, and re-purpose newly vacated real estate.

 _Oh,_  the Green Goblin was going to _pretend_ that this was the battle to end all battles between him and Spider-Man, but beating the costumed crusader to a pulp was _nowhere near_ the top of his priorities. It would almost be a shame to kill him. Honestly, Norman found the sloppy heroics and flippant quips amusing. It was much more interesting to spin his own web of lies and misdirection to capitalize on the fallout. Spider-Man's public standoffs with supervillains tended to cause a lot of collateral damage and a political firestorm that sold a lot of newspapers and furthered Osborn's agenda with regards to superhuman and vigilantee registration.

Much as it might annoy him if the hero managed to wall-crawl away from this fight or forced _Gobby_ to flee, Norman would still walk away richer and _more notorious than ever._ JJ. would have plenty more ammunition to run with in writing his editorials and some flashy pictures to print thanks to Parker. Call it a pet project, of which Osborn had many, but he did like to see his old friend's business flourish. The fact that he owned stock in the Bugle was beside the point, Norman preferred to think of this as _a gift_ \- providing Jameson with an exclusive whenever it benefited them both. 

Norman made special arrangements for Peter Parker to 'overhear' plans for a heist at TriCorp (Research Foundation, Private Brain Trust led by Dr. Ted Twaki), the same business responsible for designing the Shocker's weaponry. Relative to OsCorp, it was an insult to call them a rival, but they at least had a few items worth stealing and some people had begun to notice that the Green Goblin not only seemed to prefer OsCorp tech but that he acquired it with a little too much ease.

He’d anticipated that Parker would pass the information along to Spider-Man, if not out of a sense of moral responsibility then because he would want to get pictures for _The Daily Bugle._ The annoying hero would _of course_ feel compelled to intervene.

Norman had even fancied a guess as to where Parker would set up his camera in preparation for the action - _in fact,_ it was the _only_ building on the block that hadn't been rigged with any traps. He made sure to leave the fire escape down for him, thinking that easy accessibility might help lure the kid to a position of relative safety amid the chaos. Norman intended to protect Peter Parker as much as he could. If the poor boy wouldn't listen to reason and keep his distance, there was nothing more Norman could do to protect the boy from himself. And if Parker managed to get in any good shots of Gobby trouncing the webslinger, all the better to enhance his reputation.

To Norman's great annoyance, he spotted the vigilantee landing on the same roof he'd intended for Peter. Which, _okay,_ he honestly probably should've anticipated that. _More curious,_ however, was the fact that Spider-Man had pulled out a camera, and there was still no sign of Parker. The lackeys he'd stationed outside the Silver Spoon reported earlier that the teenager had taken the bait and ditched his friends, but they'd lost track of him before they could confirm if or how the boy managed to contact the spider menace. 

{ _"Intriguing,_  you don't think - _?"_ } The Goblin was toying with the possibility that  _Peter Parker_ could _actually_ be - 

 _'No,'_ Norman dismissed the possibility. _'No,'_ he refused to believe it. _'But it suddenly makes a lot more sense as to how Peter always manages to know where Spidey's going to be.'_ _Clearly,_ the hero was just _using_ the poor teenager. They probably split the profit or had some other mutually beneficial arrangement that allowed the menace to enjoy seeing himself in the paper while Petey got to collect the check.

{ _"Probably convinced Parker that he was playing an important role as the nerdy sidekick. That's like a prerequisite for any would-be hero, isn't it?"_ } Still, Norman felt a little reluctant to start tossing bombs in case Peter was nearby. He made a mental note to find some way to keep better tabs on his young mentee.  

After signalling his goons, they detonated an explosive that busted open the side entrance to TriCorp. Gobby was monitoring the situation via surveillance feeds as Spidey leapt down to intervene and stumbled into his trap. 

These particular pumpkin headed thugs had been outfitted with some experimental enhancements. After the relative success of Molten Man, he'd tried repeating the process with two down-on-their-luck ex-army lugheads who'd been dishonorably discharged. They'd been caught exploiting their positions to make some extra cash in smuggling and drug running.

Time served didn't amount to much when the evidence against them went missing, courtesy of Mr. Lincoln's connections. Recruiting out from under his rival was a special thrill. These two idiots had quickly grown dissatisfied with their old roles in the Big Man's operations after their mysterious employer had been dragged out of the shadows. They were eager for more power, the chance to prove themselves worthy of a leadership role, and to answer to someone that inspired more fear than an albino black man in a monkeysuit.

{ _"Strange, isn't it? That they'd prefer to work for a green lunatic rather than a respectable businessman like Tombstone."_ }

_'Racist sacks of shit are always so disturbingly easy to manipulate.'_ Norman's hiring practices had never been discriminatory, but he'd decided that it made the most sense to recruit despicable people for his side projects. They were less likely to object to his ruthless methods and Norman would have no compunctions when he eventually needed to dispose of them. 

If all went according to Plan A, they'd be more than capable of keeping the bug distracted. His infantry would still fall into position to keep the cops and any other would-be heroes occupied, while he would get a good look-see around the competition's operation and try to find something interesting or useful to steal.

Unfortunately, but also not surprising in the least, his most optimistic outcome was not to be. Spidey managed to get the upper hand with relative ease, and the distraction barely gave Gobby enough time to ensure that his contingency plans were in place.

As the Green Goblin finally made his entrance via the big hole in the wall, Norman was happy to observe that the Webslinging Menace had wrought plenty of havoc. Twaki and his associates would face serious setbacks, and Norman could be all the more confident and self assured that OsCorp's presentation on the latest advancements in sonic weaponry would soundly beat out whatever TriCorp would have left to offer.

 _"So..._ I take it _these two_ were just the warm-up act?"  Spider-Man's flippant shout made Normie smile. 

"Yes, well, I thought they'd make for a great opener," Gobby gestured to the gaping hole he'd just flown through. Then he made a short,  _tut-tut_ while he observed the sad gold heap of defeated minions on the floor. 

It was at this point that the _real_ fight began, Gobby managed to catch Spidey off-guard by throwing his bombs and batarangs in such a way as to shepherd him towards a canister of poison gas that he'd discretely dropped on the floor. This was no ordinary off-the-shelf chemical concoction. Norman had whipped up this batch special with Spidey in mind. He had only the vaguest guess as to how Spider-Man's special sense for detecting danger operates, but he had hopes that this mixture would, if not completely incapacitate him, at least be enough to throw the webslinger off his game.

The gas itself was nonlethal, it had to be or else it would've been too difficult to trick the unsuspecting Spider-Man into coming within range. The potential harm from the gas needed to be less than the projectiles the Goblin used to steer Spidey towards it.

 _"Missed me, missed me,"_ Spidey was taunting him after each dodge. 

{ _"Now you gotta kiss me!"_ } the gremlin supplied before the voice devolved into giggles and maniacal laughter. Spider-Man landed in range, perfectly timed with the release of the aerosol propelled poison gas. 

_"I have,"_ he said, "missed you. _**Terribly**."_ Banter made a perfect excuse to fill time and give the gas a chance to take effect before continuing the duel. "Offer still stands if you want to switch sides and play for my team. I'd still hit on you, regardless, of course, but only beacuse you seem to enjoy it so much." 

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've still got that policy, _you know the one,"_ yes, Norman remembered from their first encounter.

 _"Because I'm green?"_ His voice modulator raised the pitch and enhanced the overall impression of being maniacally torn between amused and disappointed. 

"Because you're _psychotic_ ," Spidey corrected him. Gobby laughed. 

_"And you -_  " he waved a hand towards the hero and spoke conversationally, with a happy flair of enthusiasm, _"swinging 'round town,_ a hundred stories high! Hanging on by these sticky _itty bitty_ threads. Looking so damn _classy,_ clad in your red and blue onesie. _You_ are the _epitome_ of sane and rational behavior."  He shook his head, still feeling all full of laughter. " _We_ are two peas in one  _very_ sexy pod, my freaky flexible friend." 

"I am _not_ your friend, _**buddy**." _ Spider-Man was swaying on his feet. Probably starting to feel a bit faint by now. The colorless, odorless gas was definitely having an effect, and Norman decided it was high time to test it with another barrage of knives and explosives. 

...

Eventually they took the battle outside, Spidey had been eager to get fresh air after nearly succumbing to Gobby's poison gas. Besides, all the extra space to maneuver allowed for some impressive acrobatics.

Things were all on the up-and-up until the arachnid managed to web Gobby’s arms to his sides and compromise the glider’s controls. Luckily, Norman was able to steer it towards the one roof that he knew was still safe to land. If Parker had decided to show up after all, fashionably late as ever, it seemed a likely scenario that he would use the poor boy for leverage - a hostage or a distraction.

What he had definitely not expected to see after crash landing was _his son holding a gun._

 _'No, no, a trick of the light, it can’t be.’_ But the voice was unmistakable when Harry shouted.

_“_ ** _Don't move!_** Stop struggling or -  _or I'll -_ I’ll shoot you.”  

Norman stared up at his son dumbly for just a second. He was too stunned and confused to be horrified.

{ _"Another hallucination?_ **Haha!** Normie, _have you finally lost your mind?”_ } The Goblin was not so easily caught off guard. In fact, Gobby was very good at rolling with the punches. He was already devising of an escape from his web restraints while Norman caught his breath and assessed his injuries. _He hadn’t remembered taking any vicious blows to the head,_ but it wouldn’t be the first time his mind played tricks on him for no readily apparent reason.

 _"No,_ no, **you won’t** ,”  he dismissed the boy, the delusion, surely just a figment of his imagination. He _had_ been worried that he might encounter Parker, that he might have had to threaten Harold’s friend. It would have made a _bizarre_ sort of _sense_ for his mind to conjure an image of his son to stop himself from doing something he might have regretted.

_'It’s official,_ yes, _I am certifiably insane.’_

He giggled hysterically. The sounds bubbling forth relaxed him as he focused his attention on breaking his bondage. Within seconds, he’d managed to cut himself free.

While he moved to stand, Gobby mock-wiped a tear of amusement from his eye. “You won’t shoot me, _can’t fool me. Ah_ -hah, _ha,"_ but his laughter abruptly faded into loud muttering,  "no, _no, **no.** ” _Definitely too loud, considering he was so sure that he was only talking to himself. Norman was certain that his son _couldn’t possibly_ be standing in front of him right now.  { _“Couldn't be **our**_ _Harry._ No _. **It's a school night.** ”_} Goblin eerily reassured him in a tone closer to Norman’s low grumbling rather than the high pitched glib that the gremlin usually preferred.

 _Besides,_ Norman vaguely remembered Harold saying something about sleeping over at MJ’s. They were scrambling to finish a group project due tomorrow or something. Probably just a thinly veiled excuse for some adolescent shenanigans, but Norman had larger concerns for the evening so he hadn’t given it any more thought than that.

“ **Stop!** _Stay down!”_ As Harold’s shouting continued, the ‘hallucination’ seemed to be growing progressively more frantic, _panicking,_ and fearful.

Despite Norman’s desire to believe that _'this isn’t real,’_ he still felt as though his heart had leapt into his throat. _‘Harry can’t be here._ It’s not safe. _I need to -_ I need to protect him. _Need to bring him somewhere out of harm’s way...’_ But his concerns faded to a distant echo, overwhelmed and consumed by the _Green Goblin_ roaring back to life within his veins.

As he started to rise, he smiled at the boy's wavering determination. With an exaggerated sigh Gobby said, “You’re not going to shoot me, kid. Put the gun down and run along, _shoo!”_ The longer this persisted the _less amused_ and _more incensed_ the Goblin became. He really didn’t need any more competition for Normie’s attention and this was a _terribly_ inconvenient time to be suffering a crisis of conscience.  { _“Real or not, this distraction needs to be dealt with. Quickly,”_ } the voice hissed. Norman felt his hand itch, reaching for one of his throwing knives of its own accord. Rather than counsel Norman to just ignore the quivering child, the Goblin wanted to _destroy_ the interloper. Wanted to destroy _Harry._

Norman shut those thoughts down **hard.** _‘Perhaps I was a little too eager to blame this vision on my_ _curse,'_ he thought. He hadn’t wanted to imagine why his son would be on this particular roof and stupidly attempting to subdue a notoriously violent and psychotic criminal with a .45 as if that would be enough to take down a supervillain. _‘But I can’t risk hurting him.’_

Norman steeled his resolve, willed his errant hand away from his weapons cache, and struggled to keep the Goblin persona in line. He’d gotten to his feet by this point and busied himself with picking off the remainders of the sticky webbing clinging to his suit. He still half-wanted to rush the 'hallucination,' to disarm him, { _“cut_ _him, kill him, discard him.”_ } But Norman tried hard to resist those violent suggestions. He _did not_ want to risk hurting Harry on the off chance that this was the real deal.

 _“No._ This is your last warning. **_Stop!_ ** I mean it, _I -_ I’ll shoot if you step any closer,” slipped from Harry's lips in a rush. The kid was definitely scared, standing rigid and holding the gun far too tightly, his muscles all tense.

"Ha -” _Harry,_ he’d been about to say, but stopped himself. For an incredulous moment he struggled to come to terms with the fact that this was actually happening, that his son was well and truly standing there pointing a gun at him.

“Ha -  **Hah,** _hahaha,"_ his stuttering to say his son’s name somehow transformed into laughter and he was glad for the instinctive cover for his near slip. “ **fuck** , you _**stupid idiot**." _ It was unclear whether he’d meant that insult for himself or the teenager. He glared at the nuisance, Harry was shaking like a leaf in the wind, just a scared child.

His first thought was of draping a heavy blanket around those slim shoulders, holding him close, taking him away from all this madness to some place safe and warm. But a darkness was fast encroaching and devouring his fatherly concern, replacing it with rage at finally _fully_ acknowledging the reality of the situation. Harry had _stolen_ one of _his_ guns, _snuck out_  into a veritable _war zone_ with no security detail to protect him, and _on a school night,_ no less!

He _swore_ he didn’t want to hurt Harry, but  { _“that_ **_aggravating_ ** _child_ \- _he_ **_begs_ ** _to be hit. He’s been so very naughty, Normie.”_ } And Norman had _so much_ pent up aggression. It would be _so easy_ to heed the will of the Goblin.  { _“The boy needs to be disciplined.”_ }

 _'He’s just a child._ My child,’ he reminded himself, reminded the Goblin, _‘Don’t hurt him.’_

It had never failed to frighten Norman when he felt any urges hurt his son, whether the Goblin encouraged him to use physical violence or was content to suggest cruel verbal taunts, it seemed to take more and more force each time that Norman needed to remind himself to _hold back._ He'd rather try to pretend that Harry didn’t exist than to ever raise a hand in anger against him. He needed to ignore those desires, _no matter what,_ Norman knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he ever acted upon them.

{ _“Come on, Normie. **A**_ **good father _would._** _At least **allow me** to punish him. I’ll teach the boy a lesson, and make sure that he **never** disobeys his father again.”_} 

The Green Goblin had made a show of peeling off the remainders of Spider-Man’s webbing, but Norman was running out of time to decide on a plan for how to deal with this. The stupid hero could return any second now, and _Harry would get caught in the crossfire if he didn't do something._

The sight of those scared green eyes tempered Norman’s rage. _‘No,’_ he repeated the thought, but he could already feel his resolve crumbling. He and Emily had agreed that corporeal punishment did more harm than good, _but these were extenuating circumstances._

Harry _**needed**_ to be taught the dangers of this world. _'What if Harry made this same mistake with some other villain?_ Daddy wouldn't always be around to save him. _Lord knows, the so-called heroes can't be trusted.'_ All the better to convince the boy that his proper place was to stay safely nestled in his father’s castle, protected by the Goblin King.

{ _“I’ll only rough him up a little bit. No permanent damage.”_ } It was the most reasonable course of action.{ _“Give him a good scare, that’s all.”_ } With no time left to think of a better strategy, Norman handed the metaphorical reigns to his alter ego.

“Do you have any idea what happens to pretty boys that stay out past their curfew and threaten **dangerous** men with **weak** _little pistols?"_ His voice was sharp, pointed, and dipped even lower while he bared teeth, the white glint just barely visible through his mask, _"Oh,_ there will be a _bang_ alright, but it won’t have _anything_ to do with your gun.”

Norman didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted to _scare_ him. To make sure he would never **ever** pull this crap again.

“Yeah? _Try it, **freak,**_ and I’ll put a hole in your chest.” Harry growled.

Norman took a step towards his son, thinking that maybe Harry would get so scared as to turn tail and run. Instead, he heard the gun fire, _and then he felt it._

 _'He shot me. My son shot me.'_ The thought,  _the realization,_ left Norman so stunned that it allowed for the Goblin to completely take over his actions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is super short, but I'm not a criminal mastermind. Also, I suck at writing fight scenes. If any readers want this part expanded on, then drop a comment and give me some suggestion of what more I should add to it.


	5. Peter's Off to a Rough Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man's POV leading up to and including the battle. He's distracted dealing with the fallout from the explosives, trying to protect civilians and help the police stop the Gob Squad. 
> 
> He notices several other heroes have arrived on the scene to help the firemen put out the blazes and rescue people from the burning buildings. There's a black man using himself as a human shield that seems to be working with a green-clad ninja with glowing fists that seems to be pulling apart the wreckage with superhuman strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm super impatient and having a rough time (personally) and that's just making me desperate for feedback. So I'm just going crazy with posting draft versions of the chapters and just planning to eventually go back and flesh them out more. Something about actually seeing them posted tends to help my brain figure out what's missing and motivate me to fix it for some reason. So, anyway, here's this part. Please comment! I'm still very interested in brainstorming more ideas with new people!

#### Peter's Off to a Rough Start

Today, nothing had gone as planned. Which was par for the course, in the life of one Peter Benjamin Parker. 

He'd slept in this morning, skipped breakfast in his frantic break-neck webslinging rush to get to school, had to quick change back into his civvies behind a dumpster, stepped in some of the nasty, forgotten to grab his completed homework off his desk (had to beg for an extension), gotten _the look_ from Gwen, the stink eye from Harry, a sadly unhelpful shrug from MJ (he still had no idea what that all had been about), and then he'd gotten blown off by his girlfriend during lunch because Liz was too busy fussing over her former beau - _'stupid gimpy Flash with his big dumb crutches. Ugh!'_

 _Oh_ , yeah, _and then_ while he was on his way to meet up with the squad after school, actually feeling excited to help MJ and Harry run lines for their latest theatrical endeavor, he'd gotten distracted when he noticed a couple familiar looking loiterers outside the Silver Spoon. The gang tats were a dead give away, and the latest addition to their sleeves included a very disturbingly green and maniacal face. They may as well have been wearing matching jackets that spelled out _Gobby's Goons_ , on the back. 

_"Blah, blah, blah, TriCorp, blah, blah, big score. It's going to be epic, blah, blah. Nah, it's going to be a blast! Raucous laughter. They won't know what hit 'em. Blah, blah, blah."_

_'Great, just great,'_ Peter blew out a long suffering sigh.  _'Perfect end to a perfect day,'_ he'd thought. And  _okay,_ so it sucked that he needed to blow off his friends again, but at least Harry was sort of coming around to understanding or at least _not hating_ him for being such a horrible flake. He'd even get a good chance to try out the new camera Oz bought him. He'd score more shots for the Bugle, easy, and Gobby was a pretty damn prolific villain, so that guaranteed a first page splash. With that kinda cash, Petey could maybe even afford to splurge and take Liz out on a proper date! _Maybe then_ she'd stop talking about Eugene.

(Having a girlfriend wasn't half as fun as he always imagined it would be :-/)

So maybe today sucked balls, but at least he had something to look forward to. 

Besides, for as much of a pain in the ass as the Green Goblin tended to be, he really did bring the A-Game in terms of quippage and keeping Spidey on his toes. Peter was itching to get in another shot at taking the lunatic down.  _'Man, I hate it when the bad guys get away.'_

So he swung on over to scope out a good place to set up his camera and _oh boy,_  knowing this far in advance was nice. He actually had options of deciding where he wanted to set up. Usually he was in such a rush that he didn't really have much time to think about where he could score the best shots. He just relied on instinct and good fortune to get any salvageable pictures. Oddly, this was one of the rare aspects of his life that the Parker luck would actually work out in his favor on a fairly consistent basis.

"Don't suppose it's too much to hope for that the bad guys might have a lookout who warns them to call this whole thing off after seeing the ole red and blue swinging through?" Peter landed on an apartment complex that had a perfect view of TriCorp's side entrance.

There were a couple hoodlums _casually_ meandering down that way. "Man, that may as well be the definition of suspicious right there." But Pete couldn't be absolutely sure that those were the creeps he was looking for until they actually made a wrong move. 

He tested out the zoom lens on his camera to get a better view after he webbed his bag to the wall, anticipating that the action was going to start soon. Predictably, it all started with an explosion.

 _'Gobby sure does like making things go boom, eh? Oh well, here we go,'_ he flipped the camera onto auto shoot, webbed it to the side of the apartment building he'd been perched on, and prepared to make his entrance. 

Attempting a quick take down with hopes of being able to wrap this up ASAP, Peter managed to ensnare the duo in a couple weblines. The losers didn't even _try_ to dodge!

"Alright, squash for brains, where's your boss? Where's the Goblin?" 

Goon 1 and Goon 2 refused to say. They just smiled and then  _burst into flames._ They burned through the web restraints in a matter of seconds, and the orange ski masks fell away to reveal gold armored skin. 

 _"Damn,"_ Pete cursed,  _'That looks familiar. Too familiar.'_ So it seemed like Marky-Mark wasn't the only victim of this twisted experiment.  _"Ugh!"_ he complained. "I already fought a firebug last week, is Gobby running out of new material already?" 

 _'I should've known Gobby was behind that,'_ Peter knew that  _someone_ had leveraged Mark Allan to act as a test subject, although he couldn't have been sure who was behind it since Mark had been too inept and uncooperative to provide him with any useful insight.

Although the Green Goblin _had_ been high on his list of suspects, so had Tombstone and half a dozen other parties that might want to attempt a power grab after the Valentine's Day Mass Incarceration. Captain Stacy had mentioned that the so called _Power Vacuum_ Spidey had unintentionally helped create could have ominous implications. _'Who'd have thought_ that taking down three of the city's biggest mob bosses in one fell swoop could actually be a _bad thing?'_

Socio-economics and criminology were not Parker's forte, he was strictly a hard science type of guy. Physics, chemistry, biology, engineering - _those_ were things he could easily grasp. _But people_ and their bizarre behavior? _Um,_ no. Not a chance. Poor Pete felt embarrassingly deficient in his understanding of the social sciences. 

But as the fight kicked off with these super-henchmen, Peter remembered some of his previous heroic missteps in making too quick assumptions in differentiating between bad guys and victims. Liz's brother hadn't understood the consequences of what he'd agreed to, his gambling debts had been used as leverage against him, and Pete couldn't be sure that these two weren't in a similarly grave situation. Spidey had to at least  _offer_ to help these fools before he kicked their asses. 

"Hey, _listen guys,_ don't be alarmed, but do you realize that you're both _on fire_?"  

"Yeah, _no,_ I didn't notice that."  Goon 1 turned to look at his partner with what was, frankly, a stupid obnoxious grin. "Did you notice that?" The sarcasm was _breathtaking._ Or, _no,_ maybe that was just all the smoke and ash getting kicked into the air. 

 _"Hot damn._ No, _you don't say?"_ Goon 2 gave a low little chortle. He took an exaggerated look at himself. "Well, whaddya know? Someone oughta call the police and the fireman." 

"Woah - _oh_ \- okay," Spidey flipped into a vertical crouch against the wall as he dodged a fireball that had been aimed at his head.  "Before we really light things up, I gotta ass -" 

Spidey leapt over the armored skin heads and slung a web to stay out of range as the wall behind him was engulfed in flames. _"Ow!"_ He reflexively yelped, even though he'd dodged fast enough to avoid getting singed.  "Ask - _gotta ask,_ did you two volunteer for this gig? _Did you guys do this to yourselves on purpose?"_

At this point, Spider-Man was feeling fairly confident that his instinct to take these mofo's down was right on the money. Their techniques thus far - though admittedly a little slow and sloppy, probably still adjusting to their new abilities - were still _vastly_ more proficient than Mark's had been. These were no amateurs, and the way their movements compensated for each other's weak points suggested that this was definitely not their first team up either.

Now, this evidence was by no means definitive, but  _the attitude_ of these  _jerks_ and their total disregard for property damage combined with their willingness to attack him and recklessly endanger civilians gave more than enough reason for Peter to treat them as enemy hostiles. Time to stomp out these firestarters. He could sort through all the details later, or just leave it for the cops to figure out what's what. In the meantime, he wouldn't be pulling his punches.

As Spider-Man, it was Peter's self-appointed responsibility to contain the fire, protect civilians, web up the bad guys and manage the situation until the authorities could take over. With those priorities in mind, he quickly set about devising of a way to defeat them in spite of their enhancements and to stop whatever mischief they'd been doing for Gobby. 

They dragged the fight inside TriCorp's building through the big hole they'd created earlier and caused an even bigger mess by smashing and scorching the place. Spidey followed and was a little too preoccupied with subduing them to notice more pumpkin heads gathering outside. By the time he'd doused Goons 1 & 2, cooled them off, knocked 'em out, and scrounged up some means of restraint he trusted to hold them, his Spidey Sense was going nuts. 

Pete was soaked to the bone from the building's sprinkler system and feeling a lot like a sad, wet puppy. And now, if his blaring arachnid advanced warning system was anything to go by, he was about to be kicked _repeatedly._

There were - Pete counted _at least_ seven pumpkin heads crowded around the big hole in the wall, although he wasn't sure if they were meant to attack him or just to prevent anyone else from interfering. They hadn't made a move towards him yet, but three had guns raised and ready to take aim. 

 _"So..._ I take it _these two_ were just the warm up act?"  Spidey had to raise his voice to be heard over the shriek of the Goblin's glider as the Big Bad finally made his dramatic entrance.

"Yes, well, I thought they'd make for a great opener," Gobby's tone and his creepy green mask gave Peter the impression that the villain had a gross looking grin spread across his face. The slight gesture towards the not-door that he'd entered through was a little amusing.

Gotta appreciate the villains that know how to keep things light-hearted and pithy even while they  _literally torture and murder innocent people._ Parker resolved to take this seriously. _'He's stealing my thing. Disarming the opponent with charming wit is an iconic part of the Spider-Man brand.'_ Spidey was going to go down on Gobby harder and faster than a DMCA take-down on the YouTube.  

The sound of another explosion caught his attention next, and then Spidey was maneuvering around half a dozen different kinds of pointy projectiles.

 _"Missed me,"_ Spidey taunted after each dodge. 

 _"I have_ missed you. _Terribly,"_ the Goblin's proclamation caught Peter by surprise with how weirdly sincere it sounded,  _in the creepiest way imaginable._ Spidey suppressed a shudder, trying to stay ahead of the villain's ridiculous themed weaponry.

"Offer still stands if you want to switch sides and play for _my_ team," the Goblin's conversational tone was accompanied by a reprieve from flying bombs and batarangs. Spidey paused in his evasive maneuvers, intent on taking advantage of the opportunity to catch his breath and search the surroundings for some leverage.

"I'd still hit on you, regardless, of course, but only because you seem to enjoy it so much."

If Pete didn't know any better, he'd think the villain was trying to flirt with him. File that away amongst the list of other crazy and bizarre things he never wants to contemplate ever again. _'Gross.'_

"Thanks, but _no thanks_. I've still got that rule, _you know the one,"_ Peter referred to the comments he'd made during their first encounter. _'I make it a rule not to partner with anyone green, or - ya know - psychotic.'_

 _"Aw,_ because I'm green?"Apparently the Goblin's memory was as good as his. 

"Because you're _psychotic_ ," Peter's Spider Sense had been reduced to a low, constant buzz, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.  _'Something's not right.'_ The Green Goblin was stalling, but Petey couldn't discern why or what for. 

 _"And you -_   _swinging 'round town,_ a hundred stories high! Hanging on by these sticky _itty bitty_ threads. Looking so damn  _classy,_ clad in that red and blue onesie. _You_ are the  _epitome_ of sane and rational behavior."  The Goblin was shaking his head, a smile in his voice, and body relaxed. _"We_ are _two peas_ in one  _very_ sexy pod, my freaky flexible friend." 

'Shit, _seriously?'_ It was a shame that the mask covered Peter's expression, the look of disgust and confusion would've been priceless.  _'Gross. I'm not_ that  _flexible. **Ew**.'_

"I am _not_ your friend, _buddy."_ Maybe not the best time for that South Park reference, but Spidey was starting to feel a bit funny, light-headed, tingly, but not like earlier. The clamor of danger seemed less -  _less worrisome than before._ Which was actually serious cause for concern, given that the battle was no where near over as of yet. 

Pete could hear the wale of sirens outside, and just barely make out the sound of someone shouting into a - _a_   _make loud talky_ device? _'What were those called?'_ And then there were the sounds of gunfire and  _more explosives_ outside.

_'Oh,_ a megaphone, _duh!'_

Pete was feeling dizzy and faint before he finally realized what he'd stumbled into. The bat-knives, bombs and banter had just been a distraction from the colorless, odorless, poison gas that was being released from a more discrete device that Gobby's missed shots had shepherded him towards.  _'Dammit!'_

_'Seriously,_ _can this day get any worse?'_

 ...

[Fighting continues. Spidey takes it outside to get some fresh air and get a better idea of what trouble Gobby's little army of thugs is causing.]

 ...

 

Spider-Man manages to get in a lucky hit and compromise the Goblin's glider. While Gobby was struggling to regain control, he was covered in web restraints. Gobby crashed down onto a roof.  _'Yes! Gotcha!'_ Spider-Man was just outstretching his arm to shoot another web-line that would allow him to finish the Green Goblin off, but chaos in the street grabbed Peter's attention. It was time to make a judgement call between finishing Gobby off and saving civilians. 

 ...

 

The sound of a single gunshot on the roof was completely lost amongst all the shouting and explosions on the ground. The tiny tingle it sent down Peter's spine was inconsequential compared to what Spidey was currently dealing with. It occurred to him after a few moments that the Green Goblin had probably escaped his webbing by now. Once Gobby realized that his reinforcements had been dealt with, it was highly probable that asshat would try to make a run for it. He quickly tossed a comment at the duo he'd found himself working with, hoping they'd still be around once he finished with the Goblin. 

"You guys got this covered? I'm going back on high to punch their boss."

"Once you find him, drag him down here, why don't ya?" The black guy in the shredded yellow t-shirt called out to Pete.

"I'd like to have words with him," Blondie's tone wasn't exactly threatening, but judging by how little banter the ninja doled out up to this point, it seemed unlikely that he really meant to do much  _talking_ with Gobby.

Black guy again spoke up, cutting right to the point, "I want to punch him. In the face."

"That too," Blondie quietly admitted.

With a quick nod and salute, Spider-Man swung his way back to the roof.   


	6. Norman Abandons His Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get violent and a little creepy. 
> 
> I still feel like this is incomplete, but I'm making steady progress. I've gone back and added some details to the fight scenes in the previous chapters since they were first posted, so if you'd go back and comment - tell me what's good, what's bad, and give any helpful suggestions as to how you imagine the battle would go - I would really appreciate some input so I can stop obsessing over how much I hate writing fight scenes and focus my attention on the smutty stuff still to come. Thanks!

#### Norman Abandons His Plans

Norman took a step towards his son, thinking that maybe Harry would get so scared as to turn tail and run. Instead, he heard the gunfire. The Green Goblin reacted, launching forward and grabbing the boy from behind. 

_“Tsk, tsk, tsk,”_ he hissed over the boy’s shoulder. He had Harold’s arms pinned to his sides, chest pressed against the boy’s back, twisting the gun until the barrel tilted to point up under Harry's chin, and Norman managed to replace the boy’s finger with his own hovering over the trigger. His son went rigid in his arms, terrified. 

It was only after he had his son restrained that Norman noticed the pain in his arm. The blood on his sleeve. There wasn't time enough to stand here dazed and stupid while he tried to process the fact that his son had just shot him. He had to keep moving.

Norman's trigger finger twitched and he didn't waste another second thinking about it before lifting Harry off his feet and carrying him across the roof, kicking the door to the stairwell open and disappearing inside for all the little extra time that would give them in case Spider-Man came looking for him. 

_'The bullet only grazed me,’_ he was able to assess his injury while he listened for the distant sounds of battle. Norman imagined that it was just a really horrible bee sting, unpleasant but still easily bearable. His strength and mobility were unaffected.

His thoughts quickly shifted back to setting his priorities straight. Gobby's grand plans for the evening were royally fucked at this point. He'd already been absent from the fight for too long, his pumpkin headed subordinates didn't stand much of a chance without him taking the bulk of Spidey's attention away. With the combined efforts of the vigilante and the police, they would be all wrapped up in a matter of minutes. But he couldn't very well leap back into action until he made sure Harry was protected. 

At his alter ego's suggestion, Norman briefly considered incapacitating Harold and just hiding him in the shadows. The Goblin was itching to rejoin the battle. No one knew to be looking for the boy, so certainly he would be safe here, just until Norman could double back. But he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving his son here, helpless, while the world outside _literally_ exploded around him.  _What if he woke up and wandered into more trouble? What if someone else found him before Norman could come back and collect him? What if -_

When Harry tried to twist, searching for some sort of leverage, Gobby tapped the barrel against his chin, _“Ah-ah-ah, I did promise you a **bang** , did I not?”_

{ _"What if the boy realizes how oddly the notorious new crime king is behaving?"_ } Gobby hissed. 

“You - you said it wouldn't have anything to do with my gun,” Harry's voice sounded far off, detached from reality. Norman felt as though he was slipping, falling into himself while  _the creature_ crept closer to the surface, encroaching on Norman's ability to control himself, _his urges_. In an effort to maintain dominance, Norman imagined himself shoving the monster back into his hide-y hole and kicking the green bastard in the face as he did it.  

“Well, _one way or another,_ either/or… _perhaps **both** kinds," _ Gobby's carefree lilt abruptly lost its warmth. He continued in a low tone, almost a growl, "But I’m under some strict time constraints. Won’t be long before the hero comes back looking for **you-know-who**. _Hm."_ He obnoxiously clicked his tongue while he pondered this. _"What to do,_ what to do with you? _Hm..."_

{ _"There's no time for this. Taze and toss him aside."_ }

"You could try letting me go with a stern warning," Harry suggested.

{"No, _you can't."_ } The Goblin immediately interjected.

"Promise I won't do it again,"Harry tried to reassure him.

{"He'll do _much worse_ if he ever discusses this incident with anyone."}

"I didn't even mean to hurt you," Harry whimpered, "I just got scared."

{"You'll make me look _weak_ if you let him go. _You can't._ "}

"Sweaty palms. My finger slipped. Honest mistake, _really."_

{"Captain Stacy, Parker, the Spider. _If you go easy on Harold **after he just shot you,** _ then they'll all begin to suspect a connection. _**You can't let him go.** Not without punishment first."_}

Norman couldn't think, couldn't concentrate with both the Goblin and Harry speaking to him at the same time, but he only had the means to silence one of them. So he whirled Harry around, snapping the gun completely out of Harry's hand as he did and shoved the boy's back against the wall. When Harry instinctively tried to reach forward in a weak effort to maintain his balance, the Goblin responded by whipping the butt of the pistol against Harold's temple. It happened so fast Norman _barely_ managed to pull back enough to keep the force of the blow from breaking his son's skull open. As it happened, the loud crack and the sight of Harold crumbling to the floor left Norman breathless with panic. 

When Harry hit the ground, Norman stood there for a long moment, staring down in horror at what he'd done. But he was able to breath a sigh of relief when he had confirmation that his son was still alive. The boy was crying, moaning in pain and too disoriented to sit upright, let alone try to stand or run, but judging by the movement he was awake. Definitely concussed.  _'Shit. Fuck. Harry -'_ Norman was furious with himself for allowing this to happen. He wanted to fall to his knees, gather the boy in his arms, apologize, cry for help, but _he couldn't._  

{" **The Spider,** "} the Goblin tried to remind him, but Norman no longer _gave a damn_ about Spider-Man.  _In fact,_ the whole _fucking plan_  could just as well be torn to shreds, burned, and ashes tossed out the window.  _Right now,_ the only thing Norman cared about was getting Harry home safe.

Norman's fatherly angst was interrupted when he heard someone sing-song calling out for him outside. _"Olly Olly oxen free,_ **Gobby,** _come out, come out wherever you are!"_

He had to think fast, needed to stall a bit longer, he couldn't use Harry as a hostage - _he wouldn't._ The risks were too high, the Goblin couldn't be trusted to keep from using deadly force to sell his cover and escape. Besides, with his luck right now the webslinging moron would probably make some dumb mistake that would get Harold killed. 

As Spidey approached the broken door and was about to peer inside, Norman remote detonated all the remaining traps he'd set at once. Outside, every other building on the block save for this one suffered explosive damages. Spidey's attention was immediately drawn to the blasts. The Goblin used this opportunity to grab his son, throw him over his shoulder and carry him down the stairs. He busted into the first apartment he saw and dropped Harry onto the couch while he regained his bearings and tried to decide on a new plan.

After pacing two turns around the room, he couldn't stop himself, he collapsed in front of the couch and reached for his son. Norman tried to hold him still and assess the severity of Harry's injury. He cursed himself under his breath for being, _"so stupid."_ He'd only lost control for _an instant!_ Couldn't have been more than a couple seconds _at most._

{ _"Stop fretting,_ Normie.  **Stop.** _Back off._ He's just a random _punk-ass kid_ that threatened to _kill me_ , actually _shot me_ , and _what have I done?_ Just gave him a little bump on the head. Why'd you have to discard my plans and go fretting with  _fatherly concern. Normie, **why?!**._ "}

_'You nearly killed him.'_

_{"Only nearly!"}_ The Goblin shrieked in a rage, { _"I just gave him an itty-bitty bump on the head! A tiny love tap._  But then _you._ **YOU!** _Like an **idiot** ,_ you discarded _**my** plans_ and brought him down here and decided to hover like - _like someone who **cares!**_ If you would've just _left_ him there, your cover could've remained intact!"}

_How_ \- how could he possibly justify the Green Goblin's concern for Harold Osborn? _**No.** No,_ that would imply that he was able to recognize the kid _immediately,_ **in the dark,** without even any context to aid in making the connection. _"Stupid, so **stupid**."_

Norman's breathing was becoming faster, more shallow, his chest felt tight, the whole costume seemed to be constricting around him, he was sweating heavily under his suit, nearly panting, and his whole field of vision seemed to narrow until the only thing his eyes could focus on was Harold's face. He had to brace himself heavily on the furniture as he leaned over Harry's prone form.

The Green Goblin was never meant to survive as a costumed crook for this long. He'd never intended to do so much damage or to hurt so many people.  _Initially,_ it was only a means to one end: destroying the evidence of his involvement with the Big Man's schemes to create supervillains.

To do that, _to be absolutely sure_ that the task was complete, he'd needed to topple the criminal empire that Tombstone had built - starting with the Big Guy himself.  _But then Spider-Man just had to crash the party and ruin things._ Norman needed to step up his game after that. Everything just snowballed from there, culminating in the 'realization' that he would have to take the Big Man's place as Crime King, _to keep Harry safe._

Norman was cursed. Bad things were going to keep happening, no matter what he did. He had to work with the Goblin to _control the situation._ It was like his grandfather had always told him, you can't fight the evils of human nature, that's a war you can never win, but you can exploit them to reach your own ends. The epic 'good vs evil' mythos was for fools, all battles on Earth were waged between bad and worse.

He well knew that he never should have accepted Tombstone's proposal to begin with. Norman should've turned Hammerhead away, but he needed an edge if his business was going to survive direct competion with the likes of _Iron Man_ , even if it left him beholden to criminal scum. He hadn't realized how difficult it would be to disentangle himself from that particular web when things took a turn for the worse. 

At first, it had seemed like serendipity, everything just falling into place. Allying himself with Lincoln had led Norman to discover so many more possibilities than he ever would have been able to even imagine before. He had ample funds and test subjects to play with. Not only did he get paid handsomely for creating the villains, he also managed to win contracts to build their prison cells.  _Endless possibilities,_ so it seemed.

_In retrospect,_ Norman was able to recognize the pattern of self-destructive behavior that he'd fallen into, but he hadn't reached rock bottom until now. Until his son had stumbled upon his costumed counterpart and tried to kill him. And now - _now_ look what he'd done. Harry was scared and hurting, he'd almost died, and it was all Norman's fault. As the Green Goblin and even before then, Norman had done a lot of terrible things, but he had never regretted anything else more than this.

{ _"If you'd just **calm down,**_ we can still fix this, _Normie,"_ } His alter ego reassured him. Norman took a couple shaky, deep breaths before they evened out, and reached out to brush the hair away from his son's forehead. Harry tried to flinch away, his eyes were bleary and he hissed with pain.

_'What should I do? How - how can I -'_ Norman wanted to reassure Harry that he was safe, that he wouldn't hurt him. He hadn't meant to hit him so hard. He hadn't wanted to hit him at all! **It was an accident** \- _the heat of the moment._

Harry's eyes were filled with fear and tears, so much that they overflowed. He'd given up struggling and his muscles were tense with the effort to hold himself still. Harry shuddered and squinted his eyes closed as the Goblin's hands started caressing the boy's face, trying to wipe away the tears.

'I'm sorry,' Norman wanted to say. _'Daddy made a mistake, but he won't **ever** hurt you again. You're safe. I promise. Daddy's going to bring you home.'_ But he _couldn't_. He'd have to confess his true identity, reveal his dual life, and that would require too much explanation - too much risk - _what if Harry was still frightened? What if Harry didn't understand?_ Norman couldn't risk Harold saying anything about this to his friends. _What would he do then?_ Harry was only seventeen, a teenager, and he was so goddamn stupid and impulsive - if he ever made the mistake of threatening to expose his father, tried to use this as leverage against him in any one of the inevitable arguments they would have... _'No, no, no.'_

{" **You have to kill him.** "} 

Norman nearly dragged Harold off the couch in his effort to hug him close, but Harry's frightened whimpers and weak struggle to flinch away stopped him. _'Not an option,'_ he'd wanted to growl. He was half lying on top the boy, with his weight on his elbows where they rested on either side of his son. 

_'I need to say something. Anything!'_  Norman thought he should try to coax the boy into speaking somehow. He still didn't know how badly his son was hurt. Needed some way to assess the extent of his head injury. Besides that, he needed to prepare some form of misdirection to throw off suspicion, some excuse for his apparent concern, his willingness to abandon the battle so suddenly after encountering this boy. 

_"Such pretty green eyes,"_  the Green Goblin cooed as he dug the clawed ends of his gloved fingers into the sides of Harold's face. Norman was trying to force the boy to open his eyes and to look at him. He wanted to check to make sure the pupils weren't dilated in a manner that could suggest dangerous swelling in his son's brain. "Stupid child," he couldn't help but repeat, "so  _so stupid."_

Harry's bottom lip was quivering when he finally opened his eyes to face the Green Goblin. Those emerald irises seemed to sparkle, maybe Norman just imagined it, but he was happily entranced by the sight of them. "Stupid,  _but_  very pretty." The comment caused the boy to shiver and to blink rapidly while he sought to avert his gaze. 

{ _"Kiss him."_ } Norman felt the strangest impulse spurned on by Gobby's suggestion.  _Of course,_ _he couldn't_ \- it would be too awkward with the mask on. But his grip on the boy's cheeks relented some, relaxing, and he traced his son's lips with a thumb. 

{"You're making me seem like a retarded pervert, _Normie,_ stop it!"}  Gobby whined. {"If you're going to make good on my threat to rape him, _at least_ do a _less embarrassing_ job of it. I have a _reputation_ to maintain!"} _Oh,_  the Goblin was in a huff now, but Norman ignored him. A new plan was forming in his mind to handle this situation. 

"Does the pretty boy have a name?" He asked. If Harold would just reveal his identity, confess to being an Osborn, then it wouldn't be out of character for the Goblin to kidnap him. A fake ransom would be bothersome, but easy to arrange. He would have an excuse to protect Harry, bring him to one of his safe houses, and if the whole ordeal frightened Harry so much that he wouldn't ever make this mistake again then it would all be worth it.  _'Tell me your name, son.'_

But Harold seemed to be struggling with this question. He opened and closed his mouth, swallowed, and glanced around nervously as if searching for the answer somewhere over Gobby's shoulder.  _'Oh, no, no, no, please, no. How hard did I hit him?'_

_"What's your name, gorgeous?"_ Norman was getting impatient, feeling a tad frantic actually. He pulled his hands away from Harry's face to reach down and search the boy's pockets. Surely Harry would have his ID on him. His son started to struggle when Norman's hands reached down.

_"No-no-no,"_ the words blended together in a slur. Harry was trying his damnedest to get away but he only buried himself deeper into the sofa. _"Please, don't touch me,"_ Harry was crying. _"No, no, please don't,"_ Harry kept begging.

Norman had to avert his gaze from Harold's face, pretending that he needed his focus on the task at hand, but he couldn't block out the sounds of terror and desperation. The fear in his son's eyes was going to haunt Norman's nightmares for weeks, _months,_ maybe forever. Gobby made half-hearted shushing sounds to ease Norman's pain as he was trying to hold Harry still with one hand while the other rifled through his son's pants pockets until he found what he was looking for.

Gobby's hands both retreated when he found Harry's wallet. He flipped it open quickly and pulled out the Driver's License. 

Robin Goodfellow   
1564 Stratford St.   
Avon, New York 14414   
GRN eyes, 5’7”, 130lbs   
DOB: 04/23/1993*

Norman's eyes narrowed. For a brief second he might have even wondered if this was just a terrible coincidence, that he had just stumbled upon an exact doppelganger, _but that was impossible._ Clearly, the ID was illegitimate, but seriously,  _'he doesn’t honestly think he can pass for 23, does he?'_

_In retrospect,_ Norman thought he shouldn't have been so surprised, because _of course_ Harry _would_ be carrying a fake ID. He was a stupidly rambunctious teenager that liked to cause trouble. _Well,_ now at least it wasn't so difficult to figure out how he manages to be so popular with his classmates despite spending most of his time with the theater and science dweebs. After punching all the bullies out on the playground Harry probably buys them smokes or alcohol to keep from getting ratted out to the teachers.

Unfortunately, his wallet was devoid of any other form of identification, but before he could try looking for something - _anything_ \- else that would serve his purpose, an obnoxious pop song started in the adjacent room. It didn't take but two beats before the Green Goblin had gotten to his feet and crossed the floor to investigate. By the time he reached the bathroom door - the source of the noise somewhere behind it - he'd deduced that the sound belonged to a cell phone. 

In Norman's haste to take care of his son, he'd completely neglected to check the apartment for any occupants after he'd busted in. { _"Sloppy,"_ } the Goblin chastised him. { _"_ _ **Unacceptable**."_ }

Without preamble or bothering to touch the handle, Gobby kicked the door down. The music had stopped by now and he heard muffled sobs in the bathtub. He yanked on the shower curtain so hard that it tore off and he tossed it aside. A trembling woman was curled in the fetal positon, completely terrified. 

_"Please,"_ the woman cried.  _"I didn't see or hear anything. I haven't called the police. Take whatever you want. Please, don't hurt me."_

" **Your phone** ," he demanded. " **Hand it over**."  After she set the phone in his open palm, he touched two fingers together and placed them on her still outstretched arm. She didn't have any time to be confused by the gesture before he pressed the trigger on his taser-gloves. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fell backwards and hit the side of the tub with a loud smack. As her body twitched and convulsed, Norman checked the recent calls. Just one in the last hour, incoming from "Mom," and the poor woman had ignored it in an effort to keep quiet. { _"How sad,"_ } but Gobby was not really the least bit sympathetic. {"You should really put her out of her misery, _Normie._   _ **Kill her.**_ "}

Norman smashed the phone against the tile floor and turned to leave without sparing the crumbled girl another glance. _'Why bother?'_ She wasn't a threat. In fact, she'd tried to stay out of his way and wouldn't have even been a bother if she'd just had the foresight to silence her phone. He refused to acknowledge the way his stomach turned at the thought of returning to his son with fresh blood on his hands. Never mind that he knew plenty of ways to end a person's life without making a bloody mess. 

{ _"Do_ try to _stay_ in character this time."}  Gobby reminded him as he returned to the living room. But when his gaze landed on the sofa, Harry was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose April 23rd for the Date of Birth on his fake ID because that's when Google says Shakespeare was born (also, 1564 is the year and both Stratford and Avon are in reference to the speculative place of birth ) And the name Robin Goodfellow is an alias of the character Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream, which happens to be the role that Harry got for the school play.
> 
> *NOTE: May of 2016 is when Civil War released, and I'm placing that in my timeline as having coincided with the tail end of Peter's Junior Year in High School. This battle happens sometime just prior to that. If I did my math correct, the DOB I gave for his fake ID says he's 23. (In Truth, Harry is 16 going on 17, because right now I'm leaning towards making his B-Day May 1999).


	7. Harry Regrets Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: heavy sexual innuendo ahead. Mentions of past kidnapping. Harry being Harry and making bad decisions. Also, some very very emotional thoughts. Verging on suicidal, but only briefly before Harry gets his fight back.

#### Harry Regrets Everything 

"You could try letting me go with a stern warning," because, hey, _it was worth a shot,_ right? "Promise I won't do it again."  His pleading seemed to be falling on deaf ears. Apparently, the _Big Bad_ had bigger concerns than him. The Green Goblin was probably deciding whether Harold would make for a good hostage or if he should just kill him now and be done with it.

 _Okay,_ so _now_ Harry was starting to freak _the fuck_ out. He tried for a half-hearted apology, but if he said _'I'm sorry,'_ he wasn't sure he could keep from saying _'sorry I missed hitting anything vital.'_ Instead he whimpered, "I didn't even mean to hurt you."

 _'No, I was just trying to kill you,'_  Harry wisely kept that to himself. He shouldn't have flinched. _'Dammit,_ why did I flinch? _It was self defense! This man is a supervillain! This was not a good time to be getting morally bent over a little murder!'_ He mentally kicked himself for being so squeamish. 

"I just got scared. Sweaty palms. My finger slipped. Honest mistake, _really,"_ Harry's pleading was getting desperate. He swore he felt the Goblin's grip tightening, it was getting painful now, and at any moment the villain would come to a decision. Harry hadn't meant to say so much, but the villain's contemplative silence had put him on edge. Silence almost never weighed in his favor. 

 _Besides,_ if Harry could get away with making a bunch of noise, then _maybe_ he could attract the hero's attention and distract Gobby long enough for Spidey to make a sneak attack _or something._  Right now, Harry needed a hero. _'Dammit, where the fuck did that menace go?'_ Yeah, he could totally pretend that it wasn't all just nervous babble. There was definitely a strategic purpose involved whenever Harry ran his mouth, _yup, uh-huh. Definitely not just the yammering of a frightened child._

Harold was caught off guard when Gobby suddenly shifted to turn Harry around and shove him up against the wall with what Harry thought was _way_ more force than necessary. As Gobby finished yanking the gun out of Harry's hand, the kid got so disorientated by the movement that he instinctively reached forward to steady himself. The next thing Harry knew he was on the ground. His head was pounding. His ears ringing. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was still breathing, but he couldn't remember - _'what happened?'_ -  _How long had he been on the floor?_ He didn't know, but he had the worst headache ever. 

Harry's stomach turned in protest when he was suddenly grabbed, lifted in the air and thrown over the Goblin's shoulder. He couldn't tell up from down, he was so dizzy and nauseated. Harry struggled to brace himself, grasping at the villain's purple costume, not feeling brave enough to make a grab at the impressive looking utility belt. Up close like this, Harry realized that the reason Gobby had been so unafraid of his earlier gun-related threats was _probably_ because _most_ of this outfit is bullet proof. The only reason his stupid shot had managed to draw blood was because he'd struck near Gobby's elbow, where the kevlar-like armor would've impeded movement so the fabric was thinner there. If Harry had struck center mass as he originally intended, then Gobby would've just walked away with a bruise, if even that. _'Ugh!'_

As he was carried away from the roof, he had no idea where they were headed. He might've blacked out for a little while or maybe he'd just closed his eyes for a minute, but he was surprised when he was dropped onto something soft. His vision swam and he was vaguely aware of movement in his peripheral, but Harold didn't waste any thoughts or attention on whatever Gobby was doing now. He was too focused on not throwing up, pissing himself, or otherwise getting stuck playing the role of a pathetic, helpless victim. 

 _'Stay awake, keep calm,'_ he coached himself. _'Try - try to remember what they taught you.'_ Harry had been kidnapped as a child. Held for ransom. As a result, he'd been given private lessons on how to deal with abductions and other hostage situations. He knew that no matter how distant and reserved his father usually acted, Norman Osborn would do whatever was necessary to save his son. Harry just - Harry had to - _needed_ to stay alive, stay awake, _stay calm_ until there was a chance for rescue or until he could find a means of escape. _'You can do this,'_  he reassured himself.  _'The first step is to calm the fuck down.'_ Unfortunately, that was much more easily said than done. 

Harry had just barely managed to focus on that one objective before the Green Goblin was suddenly hovering directly over him, _touching him,_ and he immediately lost all confidence in his ability to maintain any sort of rational or cool composure under these circumstances. _"So stupid,"_ the villain was mocking him. The rising tide of panic and pain crashed over him, and Harry felt as though he was being dragged under water - briefly he had a flashback to the instant of pure horror when he realized that he had ventured too far out, wandered into a drop off zone, and nearly drowned as a child. 

 _'But Daddy's not here to save you,'_ the thought felt alien, like it didn't belong to him, and it bore down on Harry in much the same way as any of Eddie's cruel taunts.  _'Norman has no idea where you are right now. By the time Daddy even realizes that you're missing, it'll be too late.'_ Harry was on his own. He'd have to find some way to save himself. 

 _"Stupid, so stupid,"_ Gobby kept muttering under his breath, but as far as Harry was concerned the words were even louder than the earlier explosions outside. Idly, Harry thought that _if_ he survived this experience, he'd be hearing a whole lot more of those words. From MJ, Pete, Gwen and most of all his father. Everyone would be giving him a hard time for how stupid and reckless he'd acted by coming out here tonight. 

Harry didn't even realize that he'd started crying until he felt the Goblin attempting to wipe away his tears. The gentle touches seemed somehow worse than the earlier acts of violence. There was something _intense_ about the gesture, a sense of intimacy and _familiarity_ that didn't belong between two strangers - certainly not in this context. Harold didn't know what to make of it. He just desperately wanted to disappear.

When the Goblin's arms closed around him, Harry swallowed the urge to cry out for his father, but he couldn't suppress the whimpers. He tried to squirm away, squished himself as far back into the couch cushions as he could. There was no where else to go. He was trapped beneath the villain. Harry didn't understand what this lunatic wanted or why Gobby was practically laying on top of him. He just squeezed his eyes closed and prayed that this was yet another bad dream. _'Come on, wake up! Wake up! Wake up!'_ But it was useless, the nightmare continued regardless, and it only got worse.

 _"Such pretty green eyes,"_ the Goblin cooed. There was sharp pressure on Harry's face. His head already hurt so bad, and now it felt like talons were threatening to cut him open, starting just under his temples and beside his ears. "Stupid child, so _so stupid."_  Harry could feel the villain's hot breath on his face or maybe he only imagined the sensation, it was difficult to say, but if it weren't for the mask then Gobby's face would've been damn near close enough to kiss him just then. 

When Harry opened his eyes to find the whole world spinning, he had to struggle to keep from vomiting. Creepy ass yellow eyes, _costume lenses_ he was almost sure of it, were glaring down at him. Staring. Penetrating Harry's soul with this evil _yet strangely tender_ gaze.  "Stupid, but very pretty," the villain's comment sent cold shivers from the top of his head to his toes.

As Gobby's thumb ran over Harold's bottom lip, Harry stupidly imagined trying to bite it, but the gloves would have probably rendered the gesture moot. If he tried and just wound up sucking on the creepy perv's finger, then the action might be taken out of context and mistaken for flirtatious. _'Ew.'_

"Does the pretty boy have a name?" Harry's mouth gaped open, then closed without providing any answer. 

If he said his name, _if the Goblin knew who Harry's father was,_ then a ransom was inevitable. He'd be kidnapped for the second time in his life. Daddy would be forced to pay for Harry's mistake, and Harold remembered how much it had cost him the last time. They hadn't wanted money. _No,_ that would've been too simple. Nothing was ever simple, not for an Osborn, and _certainly_ not whenever _Norman_ was involved. 

The kidnappers had wanted access to OsCorp's research, Harry didn't know what the project was, only that it had been classified - _top secret_ \- he'd gathered that it was a weapon of some sort. Daddy's closest friend and business partner, Mendel Stromm, had suffered a heart attack after dealing with all the stress of trying to meet the demands.

Norman hadn't called the police. The damned fool had tried to handle the whole situation himself, Liam Neeson style. _And holy hot damn, Norman Osborn_ _made Liam look less intimidating than a wet cat by compare._ Harry's father was one badass motherfucker. But a BAMF who still risked serious charges being leveled against him and a long prison sentence if the truth of what happened ever got out. Even after putting criminal penalties aside, Norman had nearly gotten himself killed! _And for what?_ Rushing into danger just to save his stupid, worthless spawn. 

As if all that wasn't bad enough, the project that the kidnappers had wanted was discontinued, all the research destroyed and buried along with the Professor. Mendel Stromm was dead and the softer side of Norman Osborn died with him, because Daddy was never the same after that. Norman was so shaken with grief that he'd been inconsolable. He became mean, _meaner than ever before._ Paranoid. Guarded. Cruel and uncaring. 

During the months that followed Mendel's funeral, Norman could barely stand to look at Harry, refusing to be left alone with his child. Daddy avoided him as much as was reasonably possible after that. It got so bad that Harry started to wonder if Norman wished he'd never had a son. Or rather, if maybe he just wished he had someone else for a son, someone who would've actually been worth the sacrifices that he'd made. 

 _'Because I'm not worth it. I'll never be,'_ Harry decided that he would rather die than drag his father through that hell a second time. How likely was the Green Goblin to be satisfied with cash? He'd want more weapons and tech, he'd use them to hurt more people, and Harry didn't want to be responsible for that. If Norman caved to those kinds of demands and people found out about it? OsCorp's government contracts would be in jeopardy, Daddy would lose his security clearance, and it would all be Harry's fault. 

Harry stared over the villain's shoulder, feigning ignorance, trying to pretend that his head hurt so bad that he couldn't understand the question or remember the answer. Afterall, it wasn't much of a stretch to presume that the injury could've been serious enough to cause memory loss. Head injuries are funny like that.

Harry thought everyone would be better off if the Green Goblin killed him. Harry wasn't really worthy of Norman Osborn's legacy. Even if there was any love or affection left in Daddy's heart to give, Harry didn't deserve it. He'd never be anything more than a perpetual disappointment in the eyes of Norman Osborn. Harry would never be good enough. After everything that had happened, Harry was too damaged to be of any real use to anyone.

Harry was just a burden on his father _and_ his friends. He dragged the girls into all sorts of trouble, stupid shenanigans, all the while dumping his emotional baggage on their shoulders, and throwing his father's cash around as if that bought him special privileges - as if that compensated for all the time and energy he stole from them. He knew Mary Jane felt especially fatigued from all the secrets she carried for him and all the guilt that went along with keeping them hidden. 

 _Worse,_ it took all of Harry's very limited amount of self-control to keep from actively sabotaging Peter's relationships. Harry had finally crossed the line when he had decided to follow the other boy. The flimsy excuse of trying to keep Petey safe fell apart rather quickly, didn't it? Harry was so love sick that he had officially turned into a creepy stalker. Harry wondered, just how long would it take before he unintentionally began using more of the same tactics that Eddie had used? 

Harold had boldly, brashly declared that he belonged to the house of Slytherin when they all jokingly cast themselves in a Hogwarts fantasy roleplay. He had actually been proud of his choice, at the time, thinking it to be the best, most honest fit for an Osborn. Now he felt ashamed by the truth. He was a manipulative bastard at heart. His friends would be better off without him interfering in their lives, only pretending that his influence was well intentioned rather than the ugly truth of how greedy and self-interested he'd always been.

Peter didn't even need Harry to protect him anymore. Harry was just holding everyone back, getting in the way, and generally making a mess of things. _'If I'm only ever destined to be dead weight, then better it be in the literal sense.'_

As the silence dragged on, it was as if the air got thicker, heavier, and Harry's breathing was becoming painful. The panic overwhelming Harry was giving way to cold resignation. _'Once Gobby realizes I'm of no use to him, either he'll kill me or rape me, maybe both.'_ Harry was right on the precipice of _no longer giving a damn,_ and readying himself to metaphorically jump off the edge.

Meanwhile, the Green Goblin had grown impatient.  _"What's your name, gorgeous?"_ Harry never thought to wonder why this creep was so interested in his name. He felt cold, sick and tired. If death was coming, then he hoped it would be swift. It was perhaps a little late to try playing dead, but his gaze had been lost and unfocused long enough now that he felt minimally safe in refusing to answer. 

 _Finally,_ the creep pulled his hands away from Harry's face, but the sense of relief was there and gone in an instant as Gobby instead reached for Harold's pants. 

 _"No-no-no,"_ the words blended together in a slur. He felt himself pulled back from the imaginary ledge by the cold grip of horror. _'Not that. Please, not that. Just kill me.'_ Harry tried his damnedest to wiggle back as far as he could, half thinking he could disappear into the sofa cushions, deluded as he was by panic and head trauma.  _"Please, don't touch me,"_ Harry was crying.  _"No, no, please don't,"_ he begged. 

Gobby was making shushing sounds, and trying to hold him still with one hand while the other groped at his pants pockets. The hands both retreated when they found Harry's wallet. Harold was embarrassed to finally realize that it hadn't been a sexual assault at all, the Goblin had only been seeking some form of identification to answer his earlier question. 

The wallet flipped open and Gobby withdrew a card from inside. Harold cringed when he remembered that his  _legitimate ID_ had been in his messenger bag along with the first aid kit he'd brought along.  _'What happened to my bag?'_ He couldn't remember if he'd still had it on him when the Goblin grabbed him. Had he dropped it on the roof? 

When the start of a pop song in an adjacent room caught Gobby's attention, Harry's heart nearly stopped. The villain stepped back, calmly rose to his full height and zeroed in on the source of the noise immediately. 

Harry didn't know if he should be more thankful or terrified by this development. Either way, he needed to capitalize on this distraction, because suddenly there seemed to be a sliver of a chance that he might be able to get away. Harry waited til the Goblin had kicked down the bathroom door before he made his move. It was too difficult to stand, his vision went black when he tried, so as quietly as he could he crawled across the floor in search of a place to hide before Gobby got back.

He reasoned that the front door was too obvious, and he'd be stuck out in plain view once he was in the hall. He didn't trust himself to be fast enough to make it down or up the stairs in his current condition and if he found anyone willing to help him then he'd probably just be putting them in danger. There would be no good place to hide out there, so he decided he needed to stay inside. The apartment was very modest, a simple kitchenette, one living area, bed and bathroom. Not even a decent hall closet. 

As Harry stumbled across the floor, he heard a woman begging for her life in the bathroom, _"I didn't see or hear anything. I haven't called the police. Take whatever you want. Please, don't hurt me."_ He closed his eyes for a moment, trying his very best to force down the nausea and focus through the dizzying pain in his still throbbing forehead. 

There was a loud thud followed by a brief silence and then the crash of something breaking, pieces scattering on the floor. Harry had crawled into the bedroom by this point and only now realized it, with no memory of making that decision. Harry could barely detect the sound of footsteps over the beat of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears. Figuring out where to hide in this tiny, cramped room happened just as quickly, without any coherent thoughts weighing in. Harry was still very much in panic mode. 

By the time the Goblin emerged from the bathroom, Harry had managed to work his way half under the bed. Unfortunately, storage containers prevented him from fully realizing the space's potential as a hiding spot. Assuming the Green Goblin hadn't forgotten about him or lost interest, Harry knew he had precious little time left before he was found. He needed a new plan.

He didn't want to die, _not like this. Not yet._ Harry still had so much left to live for. He wanted to live at least long enough to attend high school graduation. He could look forward to hearing Gwen's valedictorian speech. Harry was certain that her position at the top of the class was inevitable. She would, of course, want him to help her prepare. He would _at the very least_ offer up some helpful suggestions for the humorous parts of her speech. He knew that she valued his creative input. _'She values our_   _friendship,'_ he reminded himself, _'genius Ms. Stacy doesn't waste time on extraneous relationships.'_  She wouldn't hangout with him if she didn't find something of value in their interactions. Ms. Stacy was an academic wunderkind destined for great things. The whole world would benefit from her brilliant mind, and she could benefit from Osborn's resources. 

More importantly, Harry wanted to still be around to tease the feisty redhead until MJ finally confesses the true depths of her affections for Gwen. Eventually, his favorite girl was going to admit that romantic love was worth the risk. Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy would see to that, _eventually._ Meanwhile, Harry needed to be there to make sure that Mary Jane wouldn't flame out into one big hot mess when she moved out on her own and finally found freedom from all the bickering and hatred in the unhappy household that she'd been raised in. And Mary Jane Watson would want her best gal pal - _Harry_ \- to support her through each audition and to celebrate with her when she gets her big break. Mary Jane relied on Harry for emotional support almost as much as he relied on her.

He couldn't give up now, not when there were still so many reasons to keep living. _He wouldn't abandon his friends._ As much as he was certain that Gwen and MJ would eventually fall in love, he couldn't be equally as certain that it would last through all the trials and tribulations. That kind of heartbreak could tear the squad apart forever if he wasn't there to keep them all together. And Harry still needed to work up the courage to confess his true feelings to Peter Benjamin Parker.

 _Fuck,_ he belated realized that if MJ ever told Peter what Harry had been doing out here to begin with, then poor Petey would be all torn up with guilt when Harry didn't make it home safely. _'It would be like what happened with Uncle Ben all over again.'_

Harry _needed_ to make it home after all this. The penthouse would be a very lonely place if he died, and Harry didn't want to leave his father there all alone. If Daddy didn't have Harry to boss around and fret over, then _who even knew_ what might happen to his old man. Too many people in Norman's life had already died, and if Harry was gone then Norman's emotional fortress would be locked up tighter than ever, barricaded and completely impenetrable. It'd probably be at least a decade before Norman would consider letting anyone else in. _Fuck,_ Harry barely even made it beyond the metaphorical moat these days, and it took a lot of a patience and dedication to get that far. 

There were only seconds left to formulate his plan, but Harry's bruised brain was working quickly. Probably skipping over more than a few steps and ignoring logic along the way. It didn't really matter if the plan lacked refinement or neglected to abide by any common sense. It wasn't as if Harry had any shame or dignity left to protect anyway. As long as Harry lived long enough to see his friends and his father again, it didn't matter what fresh hell he had to go through to get there. 

Harry remembered how the Goblin had been leering at him, the threats he'd used, and the way he touched him. If Harry was going to get out of this mess alive, he had to offer up something, _didn't he?_  He had to give the Goblin a reason to keep him alive and to let him go. Robin Goodfellow, his alias, had absolutely nothing to his name - _why would he when he didn't even exist?_

So that left only one option to barter with. Harry couldn't be sure that it would work, but _he had to try._ Besides, if Gobby intended to make good on his earlier threat to _'bang'_ him, then it would probably hurt less if Harry pretended that he had a choice in the matter. Seduction didn't exactly make for the best plan, but Harry didn't have anything else to work with at the moment. The more he was able to endear himself to this creep, the more likely he was to be shown mercy.

He tried not to think about how well that logic had served him last time. _'Sexual predators don't feel sympathy or pity for their victims._ They only pretend _, but **deep down** all they know is lust, hatred and greed.'_ But Harry also thought that _the Green Goblin_ was a _special_ breed of monster. **If**  he could appeal to the wackadoo's sense of humor, **if** he framed the situation just right,  **if** he could somehow convince the Green Goblin that it would be  _more fun_ to let Harry live,  **then** that was his ticket home. 

Eventually the Goblin grew tired of standing in the doorway, incredulously staring down at Harold's cute bum. Finally, the villain stepped closer and reached down. Harry felt himself being grasped around the ankles and dragged across the floor until he was fully out from under the bed. Harry didn't bother putting up a struggle, already knowing that it would be pointless against someone armed with super-strength. So instead, he made a show of how much he felt disoriented by the movement. He looked around confusedly and stumbled into a sitting position on the floor and clutching to the side of the bed to stay upright. 

 _"Now,_ what did you really expect to do under there?"  Gobby asked him. Tall, green and menacing was looming over him, and it took all of Harry's theatrical ability to school his expression into something resembling surprise and confusion rather than fear. 

With a short rise and fall of his shoulders and an exaggerated smile, Harry threw together his best, most innocent of explanations, _"I wuz tired._ My head - _agh_ \- ow, it hurts somethin' awf'l. Thought I'd - _uh,_ tuck in. F'r- for the night. _Why?_  Am I _\- was I doing this wrong?"_ The feigned confusion was almost cute, or so he hoped. Maybe he went a little heavy on the slurs, but it seemed like a good idea to thoroughly crush any notion that he could still be any sort of threat at this point. 

 _"Hm,_ well,"  the Goblin sounded thoughtful. Less aggressive, more pondering, no longer in a hurry. Perhaps he had some reassurance that Spider-Man had left the area by now, that they would be free from any more interruptions, and that meant he could take his sweet, precious time in tormenting the stupid little shit who shot at him. In any case, Harry was quite certain that the villain's posture and tone held _absolutely_ not even _the barest bit_ of concern whatsoever. _"Generally_ people sleep _on top_ of beds, not under them."  But at least Gobby seemed to be in a better mood than before, and Harry could work with that. 

 _"Oh,"_ Harry said,  "that would make more sense, wouldn't it?" He covered his face with one hand, the other still clutched tight to the bedsheet to keep from losing his balance, he meant to act embarrassed. Not an especially difficult task, actually, seeing as how his current predicament was so humiliating.  _"Gosh,_ all this time, and I'd been doing it wrong. _Now I - "_ he took an unnatural pause, thinking maybe now he was starting to sound a little too coherent. _"Ugh, so stupid._ I feel so, so stupid."

"Not the brightest bird in the nest, are you, _Robin?"_ The hard emphasis on his fake name struck Harry as a bit odd. _Insulting._ Did he _really_ think that Harry was _so_ stupid that he wouldn't otherwise notice the pun? More importantly, did that mean that the Green Goblin believed Harry's little performance was legit? It suddenly occurred to him that _maybe_ if he acted like that head injury was bad enough, then he wouldn't have to use his other plan. Maybe the Goblin would be satisfied that he'd done enough damage and just walk away.

"No, but very pretty. Stupid. Green eyes," he mumbled. Harry let his eyes go unfocused and glassy. "Wha's my name again?"

"Robin Goodfellow." Gobby was beginning to sound all weirdly intense and really serious again. Even more focused than before. Playing stupid was backfiring. 

"Oh, _please,_ no one ever calls me Robin," he blurted, "not even my father." Harry licked his lips and extended a hand as if to shake. "The name is Puck." His impulsive gesture earned him silence. The Goblin made no move to accept the offered hand. _'Okay,'_ Harry thought this was a crap shot, but he could still roll with this. The extended hand retreated and anxiously ran through his hair in a manner that was meant to look cool but probably just emphasized how awkward he felt at being left hanging.

"As the saying goes,  
_everyone knows,_  
when you need a good fuck,  
_call Puck."_

The Green Goblin seemed unimpressed with this remark. Harry decided that he needed to try being less subtle. 

"That _is_ what you want from me, _isn't it?"_  The question sounded more like an accusation, and Harry probably should've known better than to be so brash, but damn if this headache wasn't starting to get the better of him. He just wanted to get straight to the _fucking_ point, get it done and over with before he lost his nerve.  "That's why you were groping and staring at me earlier. Said you wanted to _bang me,_ didn't you? You want a piece of this," he gestured vaguely to himself and it probably looked clumsy and stupid from his position on the floor leaning heavily against the bed for balance. 

But this foolish display was met with silence. Guess Gobby didn't expect him to be so forward. 

 _"Hey,"_ and now Harry's tone was starting to sound conversational, the same as he would use when he just wanted to shoot the shit with a casual acquaintance. He shrugged again and the movement made his head spin, but that didn't slow down his mouth at all. "I'll admit, the pants wetting terror can make for some good foreplay, but I usually demand extra for the kinky stuff. _I mean,_ for you, _prolific crime king that you are,_ I guess I could make an exception. Maybe even offer a substantial discount, but you gotta pay to play, them's the rules."

"What," there was an elongated pause, as if that word alone was meant to communicate Gobby's reaction, but then the villain quickly recovered his faculties enough to finish asking, "- is it you think I want, _exactly?"_

"You want _to_   _fuck me,"_ Harry rolled his eyes and pushed himself up and onto his feet. But standing proved to be too difficult, so he used that same momentum to roll onto the bed in one less than graceful motion. When he wound up lying flat on his back, he crossed his arms and stared up at the Green Goblin. "And _I'm_ telling _you_ that I'm not completely opposed to the idea, but if you want to do _this,"_ he emphasized his meaning by grabbing his crotch with both hands.  "Then your  _uhh_ proposition had better consist of more carrot than stick. Or else I won't be properly motivated to perform for you."

If the villain's face wasn't completely obscured by the mask, save for the eyes, then at that moment Harry imagined the view would be priceless. As it was, Harry was observant enough to notice that Gobby's posture indicated a stunning loss of control in this situation. The Green Goblin hadn't planned for this little turnabout. Harry had quite successfully thrown the crazy ass super-criminal off his game with this curve-ball. If nothing else, Harry thought he could take a little pride in that. In what was yet another foolishly overconfident gesture, Harry stuck his tongue out with a goofy grin and winked at the freak who was still openly staring at him. 

Gobby's Adam's apple bobbed and whatever tech the Green Goblin was using to distort his voice generated a funny sound as he cleared his throat. One long stride was enough to bring the villain to the edge of the bed, and then suddenly he was on all fours, hovering directly over Harry. "How much is your life worth to you?" He whisper-asked while he was leaning forward enough that his face was right beside Harry's.

The Goblin probably thought he sounded especially cool and dangerous with that line. His _physicality_ was pretty breathtaking from this position. Harry's hands reached out to run over the front of Gobby's purple tunic before he could think better of it. Harry couldn't possibly not acknowledge that the villain's long, lean form was probably hot as hell underneath the stupid costume. He mentally kicked himself for getting distracted. It took an embarrassingly long second for him to remember the question. 

Was Harry expected to breakdown in fear at being challenged? _'Oh, hell no.'_  Instead, the damn boy started  _laughing._ Gobby was probably glaring at him, but Harry thought it funnier and less terrifying to imagine that he was pouting. The hands he'd been resting against the Goblin's chest wandered up and reached around the villain's neck, trying to draw the creep in closer, not wanting to lose whatever leverage he gained by this level of proximity.  _Touch_ was a powerful thing, physical contact might be the most effective means to stir up some feelings of empathy, assuming this enhanced weirdo had any capacity for normal human emotions. Failing that, what better way to turn the creep on? 

"You'll have to do better that," Harry said, after the laughter had faded. "I had you clocked the moment I set eyes on you," he lied. "You like a feisty bottom bitch that's crazy stupid enough to take a shot at you, and boys like me are hard to come by _\- I mean that literally,_  if you want it that bad, I'mma make you work for it. Guy like you should be eager for the challenge." Harry swallowed his fear and stared straight into those yellow eyes. 

"Do you really think you’re in a position to negotiate terms?”

“You want me,” the statement was very matter of fact. Harry’s gaze was the sharpest Norman had ever seen it. Intense, unrelenting, _intriguing,_ he was entranced by this unexpected show of bravado. _“You want me bad._ How often does a sexy young twink have the sass to keep you on your toes? Other than all your battles with the Spider Freak, I mean.”

The Goblin hissed at the insult, "I could just take you. _**Tear you apart.** "_

“But you’d really rather just fuck me,” Harry insisted. “And you would definitely prefer if I was into it. You could try to take me against my will, but _where's the fun in that?"_

 


	8. Norman Can't Think Straight

#### Norman Can't Think Straight

Norman found Harry in the bedroom, shuffled halfway under the bed. The Green Goblin stood in the doorway and took a moment to appreciate how ridiculous his son looked. Staring down at his confused child helped to slowly dispel his anger at having had to search for the boy. Harry hadn't made it very far after all. 

_'But what the bloody hell is Harry thinking? How damaged does he have to be to think that he can hide from me there?'_

After the brief interlude during which he had incapacitated the defenseless woman in the bathroom, it occurred to Norman that the occasional show of mercy was not completely uncharacteristic of the Green Goblin. He didn't _have_ to grievously injure _every_ person that crossed his path. There were plenty of times when he had _not_ killed or tortured people. In fact, the Green Goblin’s chief characteristics were his unpredictability, light-hearted banter, ridiculously over elaborate schemes, costumes and fancy gadgetry. The only times he really acted aggressively vengeful was when facing off with legitimate threats _or some idiot decided to mock his fashion sense._

He did not need to hurt Harry or _make good_ on the Goblin’s earlier threats. And he definitely didn’t need to _kill_ Harry. _'No, no, no.'_ All that he needed to do was to hide Harry somewhere safe and - _‘and then... Fuck. What then? Wait 'til I can be sure that Harry’s brain isn’t so damaged that he can’t find his own way home?’_

{"Stop fretting, _Normie_."}  A disembodied voice chastised. {"Just _get on_ with it."} The Goblin, bored and impatient.

Irritated but not in the mood to argue or listen to anymore nagging, Norman stepped closer. _'Keep it light-hearted and fun,’_ he reminded himself. _'Stay in character, dick around to make sure Harry is punished for that little misfire, and then find an excuse to leave. He'll escape injured but alive. You can make it up to him later.'_ Everything would be alright. Not sparing even a second more for hesitation, he finally reached down, grabbed the boy by the ankles and dragged him out from under the bed. It was lucky that Harold didn’t struggle, because Norman's soul felt tortured enough without having any further need to restrain him. 

_"Now,_ what did you really expect to do under there?"  Gobby asked. Harry looked startled and weak, clutching to the bed for balance. Norman had to forcefully ignore every urge to reach out for his son. He remembered the way Harry had squirmed and cried earlier. The push-pull of his equal desires to both comfort and protect the boy left Norman feeling helpless to do anything at all. Any attempt to touch Harry would only cause more harm. No matter what he did, his son would suffer for it. As long as he wore this mask, there was no way for him to assure Harry that he would be safe.

_**Crack.**  _The sound of the pistol as it had earlier threatened to break Harry's skull echoed in Norman's head. The sight of his son crumbling to the ground etched now in his memories forever. Norman had never been more terrified of anything in his life. Even if he were to promise Harry that he would be safe, it might not be true.  _He_ couldn't be trusted. His good intentions were always being twisted by the Goblin. 

With a half-hearted little shrug and a big, stupid smile, Harry strung together some pathetic excuse.  _"I wuz tired._ My head - _agh_ \- ow, it hurts somethin' awf'l. Thought I'd - _uh,_ tuck in. F'r- for the night. _Why?_  Am I _\- was I doing this wrong?"_  Harry sounded scared and confused. It couldn't be true. It had to be some sort of act. It was too ridiculous to be authentic. It was too  _horrifying_  for Norman to even consider the extent of the trauma he'd caused if this was sincere.

_" **Hm,** " _Norman did his utmost best to feign disinterest and to respond with only detached amusement. He needed to harden his resolve. He couldn't afford to lose his composure in front of Harry. He needed to stay in character. Which required wit and cruelty. "Well, _generally_ people sleep _on top_ of beds, not under them."  The harsh look of disapproval he cast down on the boy was completely obscured by the mask. 

"Oh," Harry said, "that would make more sense, wouldn't it? _Gosh,_ all this time, and I've been doing it wrong. _Now I - ugh,_ so stupid, I feel _so, so_ stupid."

"Not the brightest bird in the nest, are you, _Robin?"_ His tongue was metaphorically dripping with disdain as he used Harold's fake name, wanting to test his son's reaction to hearing it. 

Harry frowned up at him, looking honestly insulted by that remark. Norman half wondered if he could tousle the boy's hair without raising any suspicion. But the Green Goblin stayed rooted to the same spot, attempting to keep a safe distance between them. 

"No, but very pretty. Stupid. Green eyes," Harry mumbled, his eyes gradually losing focus. "Wha's my name again?" he asked and the jolt of panic that gave Norman was difficult to disguise.

" **Robin Goodfellow,** " he said it flatly, no inflection, trying not to give away the fact that he knew it was a lie. Trying to ignore the possibility that he might just be making things worse with this misinformation. 

"Oh, _please,"_ Harry spoke up, with only a barely there tremor in his voice to indicate how scared he truly was. "No one ever calls me Robin, not even my father."

{ ** _"Ha!"_** }

Norman had to swallow the urge to laugh or guffaw at his stupid child for making _that_ remark.

"The name is Puck," Harry introduced himself with an extended hand as he finished speaking, but the Green Goblin made no move to accept it. After a tense moment, Harry retracted his hand and used it to further muss up his own hair.

"As the saying goes,  
_everyone knows,_  
when you need a good fuck,  
_call Puck."_

The little _sing-song_ rhyme caught Norman completely off-guard. He stared down at his child, completely dumbfounded. At a total loss as to where this was all coming from.  _'What's Harry blabbering about?_ Puck? _Wasn't that Harry's character in the school play?'_

"That _is_ what you want from me, _isn't it?"_ Harry kept talking, but Norman barely heard another word of it.  "That's why you haven't killed me yet?" The words were met with silence, while Norman was preoccupied with trying to ignore the Goblin's whispered explanations.

{ _"Puck likes to fuck._ Normie, this isn't a goddamn riddle. _It's an invitation. For sex._ "}

_"Hey,"_ Harry grabbed back his attention with a slightly more theatrical adjustment to his tone, "I'll admit, the pants wetting terror can make for some good foreplay, but I usually demand extra for the kinky stuff. _I mean,_ for you, _prolific crime king that you are,_ I guess I could make an exception. Maybe even offer a substantial discount, but you gotta pay to play, them's the rules."

{"Hehe, _Ha! HA!"_ } The Goblin in Normie's head was cracking up. { _"Pay to play?_ Not _just_ a slut then. But a _whore._ "}

_'Foreplay? Kink?'_  Norman tried to deny the Goblin's accusations. 'No,  _Harry can't honestly think that I - that he -'_

" **What** ," there was an elongated pause, as if that word alone was meant to communicate Gobby's reaction, but Norman eventually managed to recover enough of his faculties to finish asking, "- is it you think I **want** , _exactly?"_

_'Dear god, don't say -'_

"You want to _ **fuck** me," _ Harry rolled his eyes and pushed himself up and onto his feet. Norman watched helplessly as his son rolled onto the bed and sprawled himself out _invitingly._ The Green Goblin's gaze couldn't help but follow the movement, clumsy though it may have been this was still Harry. His charming, gorgeous idiot of a son was offering his body up to a  _#@$ &ing supervillain. _

The sounds of hysterical, maniacal laughter were still building around him - all trapped up inside Norman's own head, of course. When the gremlin spoke next it was with a smug, {" _I told you so,_ "} in Norman's ear. 

Meanwhile, his idiot son hadn't the decency to shut the fuck up and just - _just allow him some time to process this._ No, because Harry _\- sweet, silly, stupid Harry_ \- never knew when to keep his damn mouth shut.  "And _I'm_ telling _you_ that I'm not completely opposed to the idea, but if you want to do _this,"_  Harry emphasized his meaning by grabbing at his own dick.

{"Lovely _showmanship._ "} Norman honestly couldn't tell if the Goblin's comment was sincere praise or not. He didn't care. 

"Then your,  _uhh,"_ Harry's tongue darted out to run over his lips while he struggled to think of the word. _"- proposition_ had better consist of more carrot than stick. _Or else_... I won't be properly motivated to perform for you."

{ _"Heheh_ , oh,  _I think you can do better than a_ carrot. _Eh,_ Normie? _Normie?"_ }

_'No. No.'_ This whole situation was too surreal. He must've gone completely insane. It couldn't be real.  _'This can't be happening.'_

{"But it is."}

_' **It's not**.'_

{ _"Well then,_ if none of this is real anyhow... Then _I say,_ you should go for it. Enjoy the hallucination while it lasts. _Or maybe_ it's a dream. _Who cares?_ Take advantage. _Fuck him raw._ You can wake up tomorrow with _absolutely no consequences!_  It's a good deal. _Mmm, and all ripe for the taking._ "}

_'But if it is real...'_ Norman's thoughts faltered as he watched Harry's tongue stick out in a goofy grin while that _infuriating_ little boy _winked_ at him. Winked _at him,_ the psychotic goddamn lunatic who had not long ago apparently beaten all the sense out of this reckless idiot!

_'No, no, no.'_ That just confirms it. In Norman's imagination, Harry would  _never_ do such a thing. This was real.  _Holy shit,_ this was definitely real. And it wasn't just a trick of the light that made it seem as though his delicate, precious child was looking at him with bedroom eyes and a sultry come hither smile.  _Dear lord,_ this _should **not**_ be a turn-on. 

Ashamedly, Norman observed the way his dick was responding to Harry's offer. His cock didn't seem keen on differentiating between his son's sweet ass and any other fuckable young slut he might've cum upon. _If anything,_ the thought that this was **_his son_** only made it that much  _harder._

Maybe most people, _good people,_ people that weren't cursed like he was - maybe _they_ were blessed with a mental hang-up that would stop them from getting aroused by their own progeny, _but not him._  It didn't help at all that the Goblin wasn't the least bit shy or hesitant in his encouragement.

{"Go on, **_do it._  **Come on.  _W_ _hat's stopping you?_  He'll never _even know_ it was you.  _He's **powerless** to refuse_. Even better, _once you've had your fill,_ you can set him free,  _let him survive_ and where will he go?  _ **Home.** To you. _ Doubtless, _he'll crawl right back into your bed_ searching for comfort."} He _shouldn't_ be aroused by this scenario. He shouldn't be _pleased_ with the possibility of hurting his son and then being given the opportunity to lovingly tend to the wounds. But he was.

'Oh,  _ **fuck**.'_

Gobby's adam's apple bobbed and the tech he was using to distort his voice generated a funny sound as he cleared his throat. One long stride was enough to bring Norman to the edge of the bed, and then suddenly he was on all fours, hovering directly over Harry.

Gobby leaned forward enough that his face was right beside Harry's. He could still smell the smoke and ash from the explosions and debris mixed with sweat and fear and... _Was that just a dash of perfume?_  { _"Such a queer boy,_ "} the gremlin purred. { _"What d'ya wanna bet that he's wearing some lacy women's panties under his jeans? I'll bet that we're about to find out. Hm, ha! Hah, ha, ahh._ "}

"How much is your _life_ worth to you?"  Norman wanted to know. Didn't this whole situation beg that very question? By sheer force of will, Norman wished he could make the boy remember his name. There was still a chance that he could offer up the possibility of a ransom instead. Surely, Harry knew Daddy would pay anything -  _do anything -_ to save him. _Harry had to know that._ If he didn't, then maybe -  _maybe -_ he really had hit Harry too hard. _Maybe this wasn't an act._

Even bludgeoned as he was, Harry shouldn't be so dumb that he couldn't realize how dangerous and disgusting his proposed arrangement would be. Harry couldn't possibly realize what he'd been offering, what he was suggesting,  _how much this would hurt._ As far as Norman knew, Harry had only ever fooled around with Peter and Mary Jane. Harry couldn't possibly have any idea what the Green Goblin would have in store for him, the kind of services that a costumed creep would demand from a desperate whore. 

Curiously, Harry's hands ran over the front of Gobby's purple tunic, and Norman did nothing to stop it. The heat between their bodies was building, searing hot. Norman watched his son's eyes flit over Gobby's broad shoulders and lean torso. The costume was flamboyant, with its boisterous choice in colors, but it fit over Daddy's perfectly sculpted bod in ways that he had to admit were quite flattering. Harry's eyes were wide, the pupils both dilated, his nose flared and his breath caught for a moment. There was a heady musk in the air. They could both smell it. Harry was probably just as aroused as Gobby right now, {"and _who can blame him?"_ }

Norman silently cursed the mask for getting in the way, because he so wanted to feel the boy's soft skin and fluffy hair against his cheek. When Harry was very little, he used to take so much comfort during his quiet, stolen moments petting his son's hair and just _being near_ his beautiful little boy.

{"You're a good father _. **A good provider.** _ That's all that matters. Harry will have to forgive you this one _small_ transgression, _after all - it was_ he _who instigated it._ "}

Quite unexpectedly, the damn kid chose to interrupt that tender moment by  _laughing._  The sound of it broke his reverie and brought Norman crashing back into the here and now. The hands that had been resting against the Goblin's chest wandered up and reached around the villain's neck, drawing Norman back in.  _Closer._ Norman forgot why he was upset, his anger curling and floating away like smoke.

_Fuck,_ he wanted to kiss Harold. And not just an innocent press of lips on the cheek or the top of his head. Norman wanted to kiss his baby boy full on the mouth. He wanted to press their bodies together as close as they could and revel in the physical - _intimate -_ contact. He simultaneously hated the situation that they'd found themselves in, and he wanted  _more._  This was something he had never before dared to want, something he only now realized that he might very well want more than anything. An opportunity to touch and to hold his darling baby without placing any limitations on his affections for fear of coddling or impropriety.

"You'll have to do better than that." Harry said, after the laughter had faded. "I had you clocked the moment I set eyes on you."

{"Brave boy, _stupid,_ but brave. _I'll give him that._ "} The Goblin talked over Harry. It was a strain on Norman's concentration to listen to both of them, but he wasn't without practice in this feat.  

"You like a feisty bottom bitch that's crazy stupid enough to take a shot at you."

{ _"Feisty. Bottom. Bitch._   **Oh dear,** _is it that obvious?_ "} 

"And boys like me are hard to come by _-"_

{ _"Oh,_ are they _really?"_ }

_"I mean that literally."_

{" **Ha** , _what a silly boy,_ we'll see how hard he is in bed, wont we?"} 

"If you want it that bad,"

{"Oh, _yes - we - do. We want it bad."_ }

"I'mma make you work for it."

{ _"Yes! **Do it!** "_} Norman would've been furious with the theatrical hallucination if he wasn't so fixated on Harry's every word. { _" **Fuck him,** Normie! Fuck him **raw**."_ }

"Guy like you should be eager for the challenge." Harry had swallowed his fear and focused his gaze straight into Gobby's yellow eyes. It was a struggle for Norman to break free from the feeling of being hypnotized by that stare. The words stuck in Norman's throat for a long moment before he was able to save his composure. 

"Do you _really_ think you’re in a position to negotiate terms?”

“You want me,” the statement was very matter of fact. Harry’s gaze was the sharpest Norman had ever seen it. Intense, unrelenting, _intriguing,_ he was entranced. _“You want me bad._ How often does a sexy young twink have the sass to keep you on your toes? Other than all your battles with the Spider Freak, I mean.”

The Goblin hissed at the insult. { _"_ _He’s out of line,_ you need to show him his proper place, _under your heel, Normie._ Stomp out this **_insolence_**. "}

“I could just take you. **Tear you apart.** ”

“But you’d really rather just fuck me,” Harry insisted. “And you would definitely prefer if I was into it. You could try to take me against my will, but _where's the fun in that?"_

" **Oh** ," Gobby said with a leer, _"either way,_ you and I, _we're going to have so - much - **fun**." _ Green fingers stroked along the boy's cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over what salty splotches and moisture remained from Harry's dried tears. 

Norman hovered over him and watched as all the color drained away from Harry's face. Then the Green Goblin burst into a maddening fit of giggles. Norman was bordering on hysterical. Here he was threatening to rape his son, his only child. And  _Why?_

{ _"_ _Because_ **he shot you.** _ **He disobeyed his father,** charged into danger and thought himself **big enough** to challenge **you.**_ "} The Goblin reminded him.

_'Harry brought this upon himself. He deserves to be punished. He needs to be punished.'_ Later, he might disavow that thought, because sweet Harry could never deserve something like  _this._  When this was all over, he could rationalize his actions and attempt to pass all the blame onto his alter ego, but  _right now_ Norman needed to own this decision going forward. He needed to commit to the role if he was going to see this through. Even good fathers need to sometimes teach difficult life lessons. _'I just need to make him understand that there are **consequences.** See to it that he **never** tries to sneak out unprotected ever again.' _

_"Heheh -_ Hm," his laughter abruptly faded into a thoughtful pause. "Fun, yes _, mostly for **me** ," _he admitted. Much as he swore he didn't want to hurt Harry, Norman couldn't completely deny the thrill it gave him now that he'd had some time to process the situation. Something _good_ could still come of this. He was being given an opportunity to test the boy's grit and if Harry should crumble ( _which he inevitably would,_ Norman was quite certain of this), then Daddy could still be his savior. He _really could_ justify this, because it would be better, _safer,_ for Harry to learn this lesson at his hands rather than with anyone else.

{ _"You're a good father,"_ } The Goblin quietly reassured him. 

"And I _can hardly wait_ to see how long you can keep _this_ up." Gobby emphasized the statement by fondling the bulge in Harry's pants, grabbing and squeezing at his son's dick. The boy's reaction was extreme, squirming, gasping, wild eyed and terrified. 

_"Ah - ah - ah,"_  Gobby clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You're not going to back out _**now** ,_ are you?" 

Harry shook his head, numbly. His bright green eyes shining like a deer stuck in headlights. Afraid to move. Afraid to do or say anything else.

"I do believe we have a deal then, Mr. Goodfellow." 

"Deal," the word was heavy and clumsy as it fell off Harry's tongue. _"What deal?_ I mean, we haven't even discussed -"  but Gobby cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth and making an obnoxious shushing sound. 

" **Shhh.** _Shush._  Details, details. We can finish discussing those later. Elsewhere. _My place._ We're certainly not going to conclude our business here." He made a _tut-tut-_ ing sound at that. _"Honestly,_ what sort of slut do you take me for? Getting all hot and heavy in a stranger's apartment."

"I'm not sure you really want an answer to that question."

"It was rhetorical," Gobby lent back onto his heels, still straddling Harry, but giving him more space and more height to look down at him from. "Riddle me this, _little nymph,_ how are you and I going to sneak around all the swarms of cops and heroes outside, _hm?"_

"You mean they haven't left yet? How long has it been _since_..."  Harry's voice drifted off, sounding unsure of the exact events that led them here. Norman had no idea how much of the chaos his son had seen unfold from the rooftop before he got dragged down. 

"With any luck, the webslinger has already vacated the premises."

Harry appeared to have fallen deep into thought as he agreed, "That would certainly fit with his general modus operandi. Wall-crawling creep makes a huge mess of things, deems himself a success once the fight has fizzled out and then bails before anything is ever properly resolved." Norman couldn't help but feel his chest swell with pride at listening to that cutting bit of commentary. He smiled behind the mask. 

"It's the other two I'm less familiar with," Gobby admitted. "Strong man and dude-bro ninja." Otherwise known as Mr. Unbreakable Skin and Glowy Fist. "So we'll need to keep a low profile."

Harry's face scrunched up, "Weren't they both grounded?" He asked, "Why would they be a problem? Can't you just fly over them with the glider?"

_"Normally,_ it wouldn't be a problem. But you've obviously forgotten how we both landed here in the first place."

"Oh," Harry looked a little abashed at having forgotten. "You crash landed. Right," Harry winced, and Norman felt a small amount of relief in confirming that in spite of Harry's injury, he could at least remember that much. "So no flying."

"No flying."

Even if Spidey somehow failed to collect his glider, the controls were compromised and Norman had concerns that it would be too conspicuous for him to be seen riding his glider off into the sunset with a passenger anyhow. The possibility of ditching the costume and disappearing in the crowd was also off the table, since he couldn't expose his face in front of Harry. 

_"What to do, what to do?"_ Goblin wondered aloud as he got out of bed and meandered his way over to the closet. The woman from the bathroom was small, it was unlikely that any of her clothes would be of a usable size for providing cover, but they might fit Harry. 

"I could try ordering a cab or an Uber, but I think I left my phone on the roof," Harry wobbled on his feet as he raised himself off the bed. "How about you wait here while I go get it," Harry suggested. 

The Green Goblin laughed and quickly rounded on Harry, grabbing the boy from behind and hugging around the kid's waist as he pulled him back against his chest. "I don't think so," he hissed in Harry's ear. "You're not getting away from me that easily." 

"Hey, it was worth a shot."

"Because the last shot you took worked out _so well_ for you." Harry glowered as the villain indicated to the bloody spot on his arm. 

The Green Goblin proceeded to steal a hooded jacket from the closet and gave it to Harry, then grabbed a dark bed sheet that he threw around himself to wear like a cloak over his costume. In retrospect, he might've realized that his impulse to give Harry a jacket was completely unnecessary, it wasn't as if Harold was wearing anything conspicuous that needed covering, but it was rather cold outside and he couldn't help but notice that his son kept shivering.  

Norman debated whether or not it would be safe to return to the roof, to use the fire escape to discretely make their way down to the alley. Belatedly, he remembered to check the surveillance equipment he'd set up with the intent to keep an eye out for Peter Parker.

To his immense surprise, it appeared that the glider  _was_ still on the roof. He smiled to himself. That incompetent fool had no business playing hero when he couldn't even be bothered to properly secure his enemies' weapons once he disabled them. 

_Unless_ the Spider was still there and lying in wait... This could be a trap meant to lure him back into the open. Norman glanced down at Harry, hesitant to take that risk if it meant putting his son in harm's way. He pushed a button to activate his com. 

" **Status report**."  He demanded of his subordinates, the ones he'd tasked with the covert mission. Harry looked taken aback, warily eyeing the phone that Gobby had retrieved from a hidden pocket. 

" **Mission complete.** Headed to the rendezvous point now, Boss." 

"Small change of plans," the Goblin directed part of the team to reroute and retrieve the glider, warning them to keep an eye out in case this was a trap and to be ready to provide fake credentials in case they had to fool the stupid hero into thinking that the glider was being collected as evidence. 

He also instructed them to bring a covert vehicle to a nearby parking structure before his full attention returned to Harry. 

"I'll carry you if I have to. Any attempt to struggle or attract attention will only get you and any _would-be-hero_ or nearby bystanders **killed** , do you understand?" 

Harry nodded and allowed the villain to take him by the hand and lead him out of the apartment. They barely made it to the stairs before the boy began to sway dangerously and Harry had to lean heavily on Gobby's shoulder to keep his balance. Norman wasted no time in wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder and then another under his legs so he could lift and carry him the rest of the way down. Harold immediately responded by hugging Gobby loosely around the neck and nestling his head against the villain's shoulder. Harry appeared to have dozed off like that before they made it to the ground floor, occasionally wavering in and out of consciousness, but it seemed like the huge rush of fear and adrenaline had finally caught up with him. Harry was exhausted. 

Norman carefully navigated through the ongoing chaos outside. Ducking his head so that the makeshift cloak would keep his mask in shadow and using his sleeping child to further shield himself from being spotted as he calmly strode down the street towards the parking structure. 

Norman rolled his eyes when he caught sight of the car that Menken had sent for him. A stretch limo was his idea of discrete? _**Really?**  _Well, at least the windows were tinted and Harry would have plenty of room to lie down.  

The chauffeur stood beside the vehicle wearing a crisp suit and a shoulder holster that carried two extra cartridges of ammunition in addition to his firearm. Norman hadn't mentioned Harry when he'd made that call, and the chauffeur did a remarkable job of masking his surprise. 

"Boss?" 

" **Open the door**."  

The man did just that, and Norman tried not to jostle Harry too much as he climbed inside the vehicle. A moment later, their chauffeur was behind the wheel. The car had been left idle and ready to go at a moment's notice. "Where to?"

"Drive south, toward the docks." The Green Goblin laid Harry across the seats and sat down so that he could cradle his son's head in his lap. 

The man did as commanded, without question. The silence felt heavy and obtrusive. No doubt he was wondering about the boy. Norman briefly wracked his brain to remember how much this mook knew about his son. He immediately recognized him as one of the Green Goblin's inside men, someone who worked for OsCorp security. One of many potential patsies that he could use in case anyone grew too suspicious of how easily the Green Goblin stole from OsCorp. But given the fact that Norman had verifiable proof that this man's loyalty could be bought by criminals, Norman had never trusted him to work on his son's security team and if he knew of Harry at all it was probably not well enough to recognize him under these circumstances. 

After a particularly hard stop after a sharp turn, Norman's attention refocused on keeping his son as comfortable as he could reasonably manage. Harry's breath had hitched, eyes blearily falling open to gaze up at his captor. Norman carded a hand through the boy's hair while the other held him steady on the seat. Harry shuddered, closed his eyes tight after a moment and drifted again towards sleep. Norman continued to pet his hair, ignoring the uncomfortable look the driver was giving them through the rearview mirror. 

Further instructions led them to stop inside a warehouse that Norman kept off the OsCorp books, the property owned by a private shell company connected to one of his aliases. The Green Goblin carefully lifted his hostage out of the vehicle, rousing Harry from his sleep in the process. It briefly occurred to him to be worried that Harry might be able to recognize or later describe their driver in enough detail as to later identify his affiliation with OsCorp, but that concern was quickly discarded when Harold hid his face against Gobby's shoulder without sparing the other man even a short glance. 

_" **Go,** " _the Goblin growled at his subordinate. When Harry stiffened in his hold, Norman abruptly switched to a lighter tone of voice, "Close the door on your way out, and that will be all." He carelessly waved the man away with one hand while the other possessively ran down his child's backside. Harry shivered. Norman caught the man sparing one final glance at Harry and the hand curving around to cup the young boy's ass. _"Oh!"_  Gobby exclaimed, his voice chipper and dangerous sounding at the same time, "And not a word about this to anyone. _Do you understand?"_

"Yessir," the man left without so much as a backward glance after that.

Gobby hugged Harry a little closer, watching carefully as the car drove off and the warehouse doors were closed. Once he felt satisfied that they were alone, he half-carried half-dragged his son towards the secret entrance that would take them to his underground lair. "It's just a little further," he reassured him. 

It wasn't necessarily the best choice for the activities that they'd agreed upon, but it was the most secure of his secret hideouts. No one else had clearance to get past the security system and almost no one else knew of its existence. The bulk of the construction having been completed over a decade ago under the pretense of creating a saferoom/bombshelter and the upgrades were performed only by the most discrete and trustworthy of contractors, the sort that were smart enough not to ever risk crossing him. 

The heavy secret door whirred and clicked as the locks disengaged. He pushed it open and they were both greeted by a cold breeze from inside the dark tunnel. The Goblin shirked off the bedsheet that he'd been using as a cloak and gently wrapped it around Harry. _"Ah._ My apologies for the cold. But don't you fret, baby. I promise I'll do more to help you warm up _once we're inside."_ Another quick set of taps on the control panel lit up the long hallway.


	9. Harry is Taken to the Goblin's Cave

#### Harry is Taken to the Goblin's Cave

From the moment the Green Goblin had taken his hand to lead him out of that strange apartment, nothing felt real. Harry couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that this was really happening. He'd left MJ at the malt shoppe so that he could come save Peter, but he'd never even managed to find his friend. Somehow he'd found this freak instead, but the events that led him here all started to bleed together into one confusing mess. It didn't make any sense. What was he even doing on the roof? Why was the Green Goblin there? How could he be  _so stupid?_ Harry wasn't a hero. What had he been thinking? _Confronting a supervillain,_ for fuck's sake. Harry had never even aimed a gun at a person before and for some reason he'd decided to start with a psycho killer. 

Stumbling down the hall, Harry half convinced himself that he must be dreaming or hallucinating. After all, he'd been hit pretty hard in the head ealier, hadn't he? Up on the roof. He was probably concussed. He must have fallen asleep and imagined everything. In fact, maybe he'd never even made it to the roof. Maybe he'd been shot earlier, gone into shock, and he'd been carted away to the hospital or was left bleeding out in the street. Neither of those situations seemed very likely, but they had to be more believable than _this_. Getting abducted by an enhanced criminal because he has pretty green eyes, _that can't be a thing._ That's absurd, like the plot of some really trashy romance _that never actually happens!_

Staggering along beside the creep, it quickly became apparent that Harry wasn't going to be able to keep up, he even had to lean on the bastard just to keep his balance. Unfortunately, that didn't mean Gobby was going to leave him behind. _No,_ apparently he'd been serious when he said he'd carry him if he had to. Without warning the Green Goblin came to an abrupt stop just long enough to sweep Harold off his feet. Harry was ashamed of himself when he considered this to be a relief. He'd been so tired and dizzy that walking had become an insurmountable struggle. It was entirely instinct that compelled Harry to wrap his arms around Gobby's neck, to ease his fear of being dropped, that was all.

As they descended the stairs Harry allowed his eyes to droop closed and nestled into the supervillain's hold for lack of any other options. Maybe if he drifted off to sleep he could wake up later and discover that it was all just a terrible dream. Maybe he'd never really been stupid enough to venture after Parker in the first place. He comforted himself with the thought of having gone home, fallen asleep on the couch, imagining that the sensation he felt now of being carried could be attributed to Daddy having found him and lifting him up to take him to bed like he might've done when Harry was a small child. 

When they reached street level, the loud noises broke through the illusion. He kept his eyes closed or half lidded, wavering in and out of awareness as the commotion around them proved too much for his injured brain to process beyond a few small snapshots. He didn't dare make any effort to draw attention to them, afraid of the Goblin's threat to murder him and any interloper. It certainly didn't help his will to fight that he felt as though immersed in a dreamstate, vaguely aware but detached from the chaos around him and unable to interact with anyone except to keep holding on to the Goblin.

He kept expecting someone to notice them, _to stop them,_ but as far as he could tell no one even spared them a second glance. Not that he could see much with his eyes half closed and his face buried in the villain's shoulder, but he could hear the chatter. There was probably at least a couple dozen or so police that were still milling about and keeping the area cordoned off for clean up as other rescue workers were tending to the wounded and assessing the structural integrity of the buildings damaged by fire and explosives.

 _'No,'_ Harry thought, _'No way an infamous criminal like the Green Goblin could just walk by a bunch of cops in full costume and abduct a random teenage boy without someone noticing that something was seriously wrong.'_ But the costume was almost entirely obscured by that stupid bed sheet, which wasn't entirely out of place, what with all the trauma blankets distributed among the civilian bystanders.  _'Still,'_ he thought, _'This is too absurd to be real. He can't get away this easy. He just can't.'_

But he did. He just walked past everyone and into a parking structure where someone was waiting for them. Harry pretended to be asleep for their benefit, allowing himself to be loaded into the car like a rag doll. He was mildly disgusted but not surprised when his head wound up in Gobby's lap. He could've laughed when he realized the vehicle they were in, but the horror of the situation put a damper on the humor of this Big Bad driving away from a crime scene in a stretch limo. 

As the car pulled into traffic, a cold weight settled in his stomach as Harry finally resigned himself to the fact that his life was out of his hands. He'd missed his opportunity to cry for help, probably no one but Gobby and his goon would hear his screams now. Not that he had any energy left for screaming anyhow. At least no one else had gotten hurt because of him. If someone had tried to stop them - he didn't really want to comtemplate what might've happened then. Suffice to say, it was probably better this way.  

Harry drifted in and out of consciousness, the quiet and mostly smooth ride of the luxury vehicle lulling him to sleep. His whole body ached with fatigue from the earlier spikes of fear and adrenaline. He was too tired to keep track of the directions relayed to the driver, so he didn't even bother to try. His head was still pounding something fierce, so he reasoned that his concentration and memory were totally shot anyhow. What was the likelihood of that information ever being useful? He doubted he'd ever get the opportunity to relay it to anyone who could save him. 

When he startled awake, jarred by something he couldn't quite recall, his eyes slid open to reveal the Green Goblin staring down at him. He shuddered and shut his eyes against the sight to keep reality at bay just a little longer. All he could do to escape was resume his earlier attempts to pretend this wasn't happening. It was a dream. No other explanation made sense for how gentle the evil nutjob was being as Gobby began stroking his hair.

 _'Daddy used to hold me like this.'_ He thought of his father and the rare times that Daddy would let Harry rest his head on his lap or shoulder when they traveled together.He dozed off like that, clutching tight to the memory of Daddy's warm hands massaging his scalp and holding him close. His sleep was almost restful while he pretended that he was somewhere safe, that the soothing hand in his hair belonged to his father. 

He didn't wake up again until the car came to a complete stop. Apparently having reached their final destination, as Gobby helpfully dragged Harry out of the car before he'd even had enough time to regain his bearings. He hugged the creep just to stay upright, the whole world spinning and temporarily being rendered black from getting up too quickly. 

 _" **Go** ,"_ Gobby growled, and Harry was immediately terrified. He was going to be trapped here, alone with the Green Goblin, and after their earlier discussion that could only mean one thing. 

_'I'm so fucked.'_

"Close the door on your way out, and that will be all," the Goblin's tone softened into something more mocking and playful. Harry was painfully aware of Gobby's hand running down his back and cupping his ass.  _"Oh!"_  Gobby exclaimed, his voice chipper and dangerous sounding at the same time, "And not a word about this to anyone. _Do you understand?"_

 _"Yessir."_ And then the man and the limo were gone, the warehouse doors closing behind him. Harry was well and truly alone in the company of this homicidal cornball. 

Harry felt sick.

"It's just a little further," the Goblin spoke in a bizarrely not-unkind voice as he tugged Harry along and led him further into the building, through a hidden hatch in the floor and into a secret storage room. The Goblin tinkered with what appeared to be a thermostat until a strange whirring and clicking sound started behind the wall and revealed it to be an even more secret door than the hatch that brought them here.

As the door opened to a tunnel, they were both hit with a blast of cold air. Gobby shirked off the bed sheet that he'd been using as a cloak and wrapped it around Harry.

_"Ah._ My apologies for the cold,"  Gobby's voice did even more to send shivers down Harry's spine than the chill in the air.  "But don't you fret, baby. I promise I'll do more to help you warm up _once we're inside."_ Another quick set of taps on the 'thermostat' caused the long hallway to light up.  

Harry felt as though he was staring down an abyss. He was trembling with fear as he imagined the walls closing around them and forever trapping him inside this hole with a sadistic pervert. He started hyperventillating, tears streaming down his face before he could stop himself. 

The Green Goblin was almost equally frozen in place for a long moment, but that could've been his own imagination producing the illusion of time standing still. Then a gloved hand on his shoulder snapped Harry out of his daze, and he found himself pulled against the Goblin's chest, trapped in a hug. A gloved hand patted Harry on the head twice before retreating down to rest on the back of his neck. 

 _"There, there,"_ the bastard cooed in his ear. "Close your eyes. I can carry you the rest of the way, it's no trouble." 

Harry choked on a sob as he felt himself lifted off his feet and swooped into the same hold as before. The Goblin probably found this funny, carrying his abductee bridal style across the threshold of his evil underground lair. 

After they entered the tunnel, the door swung shut and locked behind them. The villain's pace picked up and Harry was too jarred by the motion to focus on anything other than not throwing up all over the homicidal maniac that was essentially, if not literally, holding Harry's life in his hands. 

...

"Welcome to the Goblin Cave," Gobby announced after taking him through _yet another_ secret entrance. Even without his concussion handicapping him, Harry didn't think he'd have been able to remember half the path through the maze that led them here. 

After the door shut, automatically locking behind them, Gobby swiftly moved to adjust what Harry could only assume was an _actual_ thermostat this time. Harry's teeth were chattering, his whole body shaking and shivering, it was so cold down here. The Green Goblin stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Harry, squeezing and rubbing his arms in a way that was probably meant to help. Harry just found the attention jarring and had to fight the urge to resist and pull away.

"I know, _I know,_ I keep it pretty cold in here. No sense in heating the place when no one is home, but it'll warm up quickly. It will. Oh, and you'll have to excuse the mess,"  Gobby acted almost embarrassed as he gave Harry the chance to get a good look around. "I don't have guests over very often. Or ever, really. You're the first."  There was an awkward sound generated by the tech masking his voice as the villain cleared his throat. "Why don't you - ah, make yourself comfortable." He gestured towards a couch that was sitting off to the corner, there was a plastic sheet over it that Gobby pulled off as he walked passed it.  "Sit. Go on, sit down. I can fetch some water, refreshments, are you hungry?" 

Harry's stomach turned at the thought of food. He shook his head, obediently moving to do as he was told. "Just some water would be nice, thankyou." Remaining polite in the face of things made this whole thing seem even more surreal. 

The Green Goblin maneuvered around a myriad of boxes on the floor to reach the kitchenette, which was surprisingly large and definitelty underutilized.

Harry's blood boiled when he recognized some of the equipment and labels marking much of the stolen property as having belonged to OsCorp.

"So... your first time bringing someone home, huh?" Harry tried to remain polite, conversational, "You don't just say that to all the pretty boys to make them feel special?"

Gobby paused in front of the open refrigerator door. "Hm," he hummed thoughtfully, retrieving a bottle of water as promised and turning around with a flourish. "No, _would you believe it?_ I just haven't had much time for dating." 

"I suppose you keep pretty busy, between all the thieving, scheming and general supervillainy."

"You know, occassionally I even like to relax with a book now and then," Gobby joked - or at least, Harry thought he was joking - as he handed him the water bottle.

"Old school," Harry remarked before taking a long sip of his water and then rubbing his mouth on the sleeve of his stolen jacket. He tried not to jump out of his seat as Gobby sat down next to him, his body turned to face Harry who resolutely tried to stare straight ahead and away from the villain. But Gobby proved impossible to ignore as a gloved hand settled itself on Harry's thigh.

"Tell me, _Robin,_ how do _you_ like to relax after a _long,_ **hard** day's work?"  The hand on Harold's thigh slid up and inward, squeezing in emphasis and brushing against his clothed genitals. In spite of the chill in the air, Harry's skin quickly grew blazing hot and he forgot to breath until his lungs screamed for air. By then he felt disorientated and light headed.  

"I - um, _hm..."_ He licked his lips, pretending to ponder the question while he searched his mind for a convincing means to disguise the frightened stuttering of his racing heart or the fast, shallow gasps of air that had him obviously on the verge of another panic attack. 

 _'Stay calm. Stay calm. Breath. Act casual. Play it cool.'_ Harry pressed the bottle back to his lips, shrugging and leaning back against the couch while he took a greedy gulp to buy as much time as he could without accidentally choking or drowning himself. 

Mentioningvideo games, Netflix binging or browsing internet memes was probably a poor choice. If Gobby was serious about his earlier rape threats, then it was probably best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Preferably, some time before Harry completely loses his cool and winds up begging for Daddy to pay a ransom instead.  _'Think of something generic and suggestive to say.'_

"I guess, I usually like to relax with a hot bath and a trusted friend to rub my back. A more... _thorough_ rub down, if I'm lucky."

_"Oh. Well..."_ Gobby purred, "I think you'll be getting _very_ lucky tonight."

_'Ha, sure Gobby, if that's what you want to call it.'_


	10. Squad POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ wakes up and hears the news, she tries and fails to get a hold of Harry. Pretty soon, she blabs about Harry's plan to Gwen. Stacy immediately passes word along to Peter. 
> 
> Spidey is upset to learn that Harry had followed him into that shitstorm last night.

#####  **Mary Jane’s POV**

Mary Jane had tossed and turned all night with worry for her two stupid friends. She shouldn’t have let Harry go after Pete, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. If it had been _Gwen_ chasing after that vigilante, there’s no way she would’ve been content to sit around twiddling her thumbs and hoping for the best either.

 _Besides,_ Harry wasn’t defenseless. He had left with a small cache of weapons and a first aid kit, and as far as she knew he was the only member of the squad that had ever had any actual combat training - self defense, anti-kidnapping techniques mostly and firearm safety. If any of them stood a chance of knowing what the fuck they were doing - it was Harry. His burner phone had been loaded with any number he might need - the police, OsCorp’s security team, even Captain George Stacy’s personal cell. If anything bad had happened, Harry wouldn’t hesitate to call for help - if not for his own sake then for Peter’s.

 _‘That is, assuming that he is in a position where he can still call for help.’_ She couldn’t help but imagine various _what if_ scenarios. When she got up and pulled up the news on her phone, she felt like the building anxiety would eat a hole through her stomach. Last night, Harry and Peter had both gone after Spider-Man and here the hero had gotten involved in a huge fight downtown. A whole block had been devastated by bomb blasts and gunfire, the _Green Goblin_ had been involved.

She’d gotten a late night text from Pete, it was just an 'I’m laughing so hard I'm crying’ emoji, an exceedingly late response to whatever dumb thing she’d sent him yesterday, but at least that meant Parker had probably survived that madness. But there was nothing from Harry.

_'What if he’d been caught in a blast, pierced by shrapnel, buried under rubble. What if a member of the Gob Squad had grabbed him to use as a human shield or shot him. What if he’d been captured - he is, afterall, the only child of a billionaire.'_

She dialed the number he’d given her for his burner phone. It went straight to voicemail. _‘No, no, no, why would he turn it off?’_ She chewed her bottom lip, gathering her school things on autopilot while she considered the various possibilities. Maybe his phone died. Sure, it had a full charge when he left last night but the battery life of these devices isn't all that reliable especially if he’d had to use it very much. Or perhaps it had been destroyed, dropped, or lost.

She texted Pete while she boarded the bus.

(Did you catch any of the action last night? Please tell me that you didn’t get caught up in the middle of it. )

The couple minutes she spent waiting for a response dragged on too long. She texted Gwen next,

(Morning Sunshine, hate to be a bother, but did you or your dad hear from Harry at all last night?)

Gwen’s response was almost immediate.

(No, y?)

Mary Jane glared at Pete’s non-response while she considered how much to tell the Police Captain’s Daughter about her concerns. She didn’t actually know if Osborn had permits for those weapons, and Stacy would’ve definitely disapproved of his plan to go charging in after Pete.

(I’m worried he might’ve got into some trouble last night.)

(What kind of trouble?)

She squirmed in her seat and tried to call Harry again. Straight to voicemail. Then the other phone in her bag went off and startled her. She’d almost forgotten that she was still holding on to Harold’s primary cell. Gwen was calling him. MJ took a deep breath and answered.

"Hey, Gwen, I -” 

"Why are you answering Harold’s phone?”  _'Ouch, Gwen only ever calls him that when she’s caught us in a scheme.'_

"I was just holding onto it for him, because he didn’t want his dad to track his whereabouts last night.” MJ could very clearly imagine the look of exasperation on her friend’s face when she heard the large sigh over the line.

"What kind of trouble do you think he’s gotten into this time?”

"I’m not sure. It could be nothing, but…”

"But you think it’s something or you wouldn't be asking if _my dad_ had heard from him. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet. I mean,” _it wouldn’t be completely out of character for him to have slept in or misplaced his phone, but he’s usually really good about checking in with me when he gets into mischief, especially if I’m involved and he’s relying on me for a cover story, which I can’t really provide if I don’t know what all I need to cover for and..._ "Shit, this is Harry’s cell. We should not be talking about this on his cell. I’ll tell you everything in person.”

So maybe Mary Jane inherited a little bit of Harry’s paranoia. The boy often insisted that they be careful about when and where _and how_ they talked about certain things to avoid getting into more trouble with his father. Norman Osborn ordinarily wouldn’t care about a little bit of foolishness now and again, but Harry didn’t want Daddy to know everything he got up to. _“It would only serve as more evidence of what a horrible disappointment I am, if Dad ever found out what an incorrigible little slut I am.”_ She was distracted by her phone buzzing with a new text message. _‘Peter, finally!’_

(Action adjacent. Remind me to thank Oz for the long scope lense. [thumbs up, smile, explosion, camera, dollar sign emojis])

Well, at least one of the boys was safe, but she didn’t find that comment at all reassuring. If he needed a reminder, then that means Harry hadn’t met up with him last night. She stuffed both phones back into her bag and fiddled with the straps while she stared hard out the window. If _anything_ had happened to Harry last night, she was at least partially responsible for enabling him to go out there alone.

 _‘How dangerous could it really be? Peter’s been pulling stunts like this for **months** now.’ _ At least now she could appreciate how upset Harry had been when they first learned about Peter’s work for the Bugle. _‘Stupid teenage boys always thinking that they’re invincible and throwing themselves into danger.’_

_..._

 

#####  **Gwen’s POV**

MJ managed to meet up with Gwen right away when she got to school. Told her about how Harry had gone after Peter last night and she hasn’t heard from him since. Gwen immediately pulled her phone out and dialed Parker. As soon as Pete answered, Gwen jumped in before he could even say hello, "Are you at school yet?”

"On my way,” and she could hear a wooshing sound on the other end of the line. "I got… _delayed,_ still a little sore from the other night. _What’s the hurry?”_

"You didn’t see Harry at all last night, did you?”

"Last night? No, _I was a little busy -”_

"MJ says,” at this point Miss Watson made frantic shushing gestures, but Ms. Stacy ignored them. "He was following you, _or trying to._ Apparently that camera he bought you has a GPS tracker in it. Are you _absolutely sure_ that you didn’t see him? We haven’t been able to get a hold of him.”

_“Shit._ No. If he was there - last night - _it was a mess.”_

"And now you see, this is why we’re _a little bit_ frantic to know if he’s okay.”

 ...

 

#####  **Peter’s POV**

He had been webslinging his way to school when he caught the call from Gwen, asking if he’d seen Harry. Mary Jane’s text message suddenly took on a new meaning.

Naturally, Peter blamed himself for this. _'I should’ve known better than to accept that camera from Harry. A peace offering he’d called it. Said if I was going to risk my life to get pictures of the "Spider Freak" then I might as well make sure that they were HD quality.’_

He clung to the side of a building to catch his breath. He was unusually winded. He tried to blame the tightness in his chest on his battle wounds, but it was the thought of his best friend being in harm’s way that was twisting him up inside.  _'Harry just wants to look out for me, and I’ve just kept pushing him away. If our positions were reversed, I only **wish** I would have the strength and perseverance to try half as hard to protect him in return.'_

Peter had actually fared surprisingly well despite all the chaos. It had seemed as though they were just warming up and then it was over. He’d webbed up the big bad, but lost sight of him while taking out his minions and rescuing civilians. He’d thought that the Green Goblin would jump back into the fight as soon as he'd cut himself free, but instead the Goblin had ducked out of the fight much earlier than he'd expected. Spidey really should've learned his lesson from all the previous times when he thought he'd had the Goblin trapped, but - with all the spectacle that lunatic made the other night - Pete honestly believed the Green Goblin was serious about making that the battle to end all battles between them. And now it seems as though it was just another ruse to throw Spidey off his game, and _he fell for it._ Peter kept on metaphorically kicking himself in the figurative shins.

 _'Aw fuck, **with my luck** , that Green Bastard could've crossed paths with Harry while I was distracted.' _Gobby had definitely displayed an affinity for stealing things that belonged to Norman Osborn. Would the villain recognize the billionaire tech genius's son? _If he had,_ would he really abandon his original plans in favor of an impromptu kidnapping? There's _no way_ that creep could've possibly _known_ that Harry would be there, _right?_


End file.
